Dead Shifter Walking (11 page)

“The letting you had Morgan and I assist with,”
he replied.

Had to give it to the man, his political tact
was spotless. Dimly, I wondered what house he was master of and if,
his age would be catching up to him.

“I didn’t force him against his wishes,” I said,
referring to the young man he had pulled from. I shampooed my hair,
washing the blood and dirt out, sad to see some of the dye leaving
with it.

Tate moved uncomfortably against the open
threshold. I sighed, turning off the water and pulling a thick
plush hotel towel around me, before also wrapping my damp hair up.
True to form, the place was similar to a sauna.

“Tate,” I said quietly, opening the door, “I
swear I did not force him. I only helped get through the rage of
first blood to help him calm down. If he didn’t want you to drain
him, I couldn’t have made him say what he did.”

His eyes again took their sweet time finding my
face. Crossing my arms with irritation, I kicked a hip out against
the door fame as well, noticing the yellow cast in Tate’s eyes.

“Holy fuck, when was the last time you fed?” I
asked, now very worried.

I watched Tate’s fangs descend. “Not since that
day,” he said around his enlarged teeth. “I was worried.”

“Fuck, Tate, how old are you?” I said, moving to
sit on the bed and holding out my wrist. “Let’s go, you idiot.”

He moved silently next to me, kneeling and
greedily inhaling my scent through his now even more advanced
senses. Succubus blood was powerful; freely given to a vampire, it
was doubly so. I was feeling a tad sorry about putting him off now
that I saw how seriously he had taken it.

I closed my eyes to squish the sensations he was
building in me, which was a terrible idea, as it only made them
more alive. From my wrist, I felt his gentle lips move along my
forearm to my elbow, and give a gentle nip at my shoulder.

That earned him a yip from me and I could feel
him smiling against my neck. “Are you certain you are telling me
the truth?” he whispered against my neck.

“Yes, Tate,” I said, fighting to keep my voice
and heartbeat even. The last thing I needed was to kick out
seduction pheromones and end up in bed with him. I was tempted to;
the extended life of vampires led to an amazing skill set in the
bedroom, as I had the pleasure to experience firsthand. But one of
my cardinal rules was to not sleeping with those I worked with.
Tate, being the head of one of the houses here, where I was bound
to spend time, unfortunately counted as a coworker.

I felt him push the towel off my damp hair.
“Tate,” I warned, “I will withdraw my offer.”

That was all the encouragement he needed.
Gently, I felt his fangs pierce my skin, one landing perfectly in
my jugular, while the other was slightly off. Asshole, I thought to
myself. He knew exactly how to prolong this. A clean bite into my
jugular with both fangs would be a quick feeding. He had
essentially doubled his time at my neck. Asshole.

One thing vamp books had correct was how amazing
pleasurable a bite feels. It was a prelude to seduction or a
heightened sexual experience, which I was not thinking about. I
warned myself feeling my pulse escalate while my breathing was a
little too close for panting for my liking. It probably had
something to do with the fact Tate now had me pinned under him in
the bed, my calves against the comforter, while my toes brushed the
carpet fibers as I flexed them.

He twisted ever so slightly, causing my back to
arch and a whimper escape my lips. Dammit, now I was panting.

Pulling his fangs out, Tate bit his lip with his
still drawn fangs, pressing his blood against the wound in my neck
to stop the bleeding. I didn’t expect to feel his forehead against
my own; I opened my eyes wide into his brown and yellow tinted
gaze.

“Olivia…” My name on his lips was a promise, one
I desperately wanted to have him fulfill. I was so dangerously
close to saying yes.

“What about the other incident?” he asked.

I clenched my eyes closed, feeling all the heat
and desire shut down faster than I could pull it in. I pushed
against his chest, and, thankfully, he moved to sit next to me.

I sighed, running my hands through my tangled
hair, bracing my forearms on my knees. From those few moments of
intimacy, I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t. “Nothing you need to
worry about,” I answered, standing and rummaging through my bags
for something to wear.

He leaned back, legs spread apart, hands
situated behind him. Hot asshole, his eyes, still glowing, watched
me too closely.

“It did not sound like nothing,” he responded,
clearly having no intention of leaving.

Huffing, I dressed under the towel into black
yoga pants and a turquoise tank top with new undergarments.

“It will be nothing,” I answered levelly,
turning back to him with my arms crossed, thankful his eyes had
returned to being only a lovely shade of brown.

“Your vehicle was totaled,” he said, still
showing no signs of leaving.

I sighed, returning to the now vented bathroom
to comb my hair, not knowing what else to say to Tate. Yes, I was
almost killed. Yes, I know who one of the men was. No, I’m trying
not to start an internal species issue.

Hair combed, teeth brushed, I exited the
bathroom to find Tate leisurely lying on my bed with his hands
behind his head.

I took one look at him and rolled my eyes. “I’m
going to bed,” I announced, not remotely caring he was trying to
throw my game. Let him try; it would take more than one sexy-ass
vamp to screw with me.

He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Alone,“ I
said, throwing back the covers and snuggling in.

I was far more exhausted than I admitted to
myself; once my head hit the pillow, I was out. I never heard Tate
leave. I expected my dreams to be the same awful nightmares as my
waking hours. I was surprised when the sunlight snuck between the
curtains, waking me up. I couldn’t remember the last time I had
slept an entire night.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I had lost
my bra and pants, which was more typical of how I slept. What I
wasn’t expecting to see was to see a shirtless vampire next me to.
I’m not going to lie; I really wanted to pull down the covers too
see if he had anything else on under the sheet. Well, at least that
explained why I hadn’t heard him leave.

The view was amazing. While I initially wouldn’t
call Tate my “type,” I was suddenly learning how wrong I was. His
lean exterior hid the chiseled sculpted chest and perfectly formed
abs. His arms were still behind his head, emphasizing his bulging
biceps.

A lazy smile graced his lips, and I knew I was
in trouble. “Are you enjoying the view?” he asked with his eyes
closed.

Cocky asshole. “Nope,” I said, hopping out of
bed. “I was debating if I should kill you for not leaving.” I
crossed my arms over my chest, realizing, as his eyes opened, I
wasn’t wearing any pants.

His tongue peeked out running his bottom lip
before his eyes made it back to my eyes. “Damn it, Tate,” I
scolded, “I work with you.” I dashed to the bathroom, feeling my
self-control fading fast.

When I exited cautiously, Tate was gratefully
dressed and in the other room. Quickly, I grabbed my clothing,
moving out of his sight to get dressed. After losing my working
leathers, jeans would have to do and a jacket over my white shirt
to hide my guns and silver knives.

Coming back into view, he said, “Sorry, Olie,
it’s been a long time since I woke up to the smell of desire.” He
gave me the strangest look.

What the hell do I say to that? I opted for
nothing, noticing his interest in my files strewn on the table.

“I’d like to help with these,” he said,
indicating the murders.

I sighed, sitting next to him. “Me too.”

“What do you need?” he asked gently, moving the
photos across the table.

I ran a hand through my red hair, pulling it
into a pony. “I need to know how they’re connected. The killer
thinks they’re abominations, evil, and must be eliminated. If I
knew why, what trait they shared and which member had it, I might
be able to protect others.”

He nodded. “Can you get me DNA samples?”

“I can,” I answered. No, Mercer would never ever
give me what I wanted, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have other
methods. Besides, working in the system had proven ineffective and
gotten another family killed, I was done playing the Governor’s
game.

Tate pushed away from the table, standing, his
earlier attraction forgotten. I really wished I could do the same;
it pushed against my self-control, straining to make it past my
skin and into the air where he would undoubtedly sense it
again.

At the door, he paused, turning to look at me
again strangely. “I saved my number in your phone. Call me once you
have what we need,” he said.

I nodded, leaning against the doorframe. His
hand reached out to cup my cheek while his lips touched briefly on
my forehead. “This isn’t done, Olivia.”

I smiled. “Nothing ever is,” I answered, moving
to close the door. I sighed heavily. That’s a complication I really
didn’t need, attraction to a master vampire.

Rolling my shoulders, I pulled my phone from my
purse, answering Jerry’s text, What time you be here?

I laughed and texted, 45 minutes.

Chapter 6

After making sure that Jerry had Mercer
thoroughly distracted and away from his office, I crawled into the
dusty ventilation shaft of the morgue. I had already persuaded the
security guard to shut off the security cameras, and, yes, it was
possible; I used my fists.

Dropping down into cold storage, I set the
backpack on the ground, getting to work. Cold storage was exactly
as it sounded: table after table of dead bodies. No one was here
this early; apparently, the budget cuts had eliminated the morning
shift, so only swing and graveyard were left. That provided me with
an opportunity to steal what I needed.

While I had no problem dismembering a living
body, doing so to a dead body was slightly unnerving. I pushed down
my breakfast that wanted to make an appearance, threading my
emotions into a slow and easy braid to keep my mind off the fingers
and blood I was taking.

My phone vibrated, but I ignored it. The sooner
I got the samples to Tate, the sooner I would know what the hell
was going on.

Leaving the same way I had entered was my best
escape route. Balancing precariously on the occupied table, I
stretched my body, my fingers grasping the edge of the vent before
pulling myself up. Using my physical abilities felt great; I had
neglected them over the past few days. Perhaps, if I had time, I
would even go for a run, in which I wasn’t being chased or chasing
something. That sounded divine.

Once I had jogged a few blocks away from the
morgue, I checked my phone. It was Kass with a reminder that Logan
would be in town tonight. Fantastic. I groaned. I needed to wrap up
the hit on me with a hit on one of his, and by "wrap up," I meant
kill Steven and deliver his head.

I texted Jerry, Ready.

We had already agreed to the pickup location.
Now I just had to wait until he got rid of Mercer and got me. I
probably had at least an hour, which was why ten minutes later, I
was highly suspicious when the Beast drove up and Jerry rolled the
driver’s window down.

Cautiously, I crept from the shadows of the
alley. I was mortified when Mercer leaned forward and said, “Let’s
go, thieving beauty,” and sat back just as quickly.

Throwing caution to the wind, I stomped to the
Beast, and jumped in the backseat.

“Jerry, what the fuck?” I hissed.

“He was on to me in the first ten minutes,”
Jerry answered without much interest.

“I’m not giving the samples back,” I said daring
him to try anything.

Mercer didn’t bother turning around in his seat.
“Didn’t think you would. Turn left here,” he directed Jerry.

“How do you know where we’re going?” I asked,
since I hadn’t texted or called Tate to let him know I had been
successful.

“If you think you’re the first one Tate
approached to obtain those samples, you would be mistaken,” he
said. “But you are far more capable of breaking into the morgue
than anyone else.”

I sat back hard against the seat, pulling my
silence around me like a protective cloak. It had only been an
information-gathering mission to Tate. I scolded myself for
thinking it could have been anything else, and I was grateful I
hadn’t given in to my desires. At least self-denial was good for
something.

Jerry looked at me in the rearview mirror. “You
okay, Olie?”

“Just fine,” I said, turning my attention
outside my window.

It took an hour to reach the lab and Tate;
thankfully, I had packed dry ice in my satchel. I didn’t bother
saying a word as I threw the backpack at him in the underground
bunker. It was in the middle of deserted farm county, far enough
from the city to guarantee privacy, but close enough for Gunner,
the resident forensic lab geek, to get to town, if he needed
to.

The inside the of lab was spotless with
stainless steel work tables and machines I didn’t even want to
understand that whirled, stirred, and beeped as the results were
being processed. Gunner was a sight to behold; overweight, he
waddled more than walked, mumbling to himself and giving the rest
of us cautious, brief glances. He didn’t like us in his domain. I
couldn’t blame him; I felt the same way.

He had tried to get us to leave, but Tate flatly
refused. Gunner, motivated by Tate’s undead nonverbal threat,
decided not to broach the subject again.

I sat against the wall, out of the way, mentally
berating myself for falling so easily for Tate’s trap. I was an
idiot, even if we might learn something valuable here.