Deadly Liaisons (6 page)

“Barbarian.” She spoke the insult with hatred. She hadn’t a clue what barbaric real y meant. Not like what he’d seen during the wars before he was changed. “Let me see the tissue samples,” she ordered.

“What evidence do you have that suggests I’m the kil er?”

Her ful pink lips pursed.

“Wel ? I’m not a patient man. In fact, lack of patience is one of my greatest faults.”

“Try arrogance.”

He smiled, not meaning to, but he couldn’t help it when the woman, petite of stature, deprived of sleep, imprisoned against her wil , could stil make a sarcastic comeback.

“What would it be like to lie with you? Full of vinegar, sparring with me at every turn?”

Her eyes darkened and widened at the same time.

In his mind, he quickly readdressed the situation in the warehouse district. Had she been the one who touched his mind with a gentle probe like a sensual caress? A huntress telepath?

He had to know if she was the one who’d touched him so intimately.
“You smell like roses, springtime fresh. Your warm, sweet
blood streaming through your veins, begs me to satisfy my growing bloodlust
.
”

Speaking the truth at every turn, he studied her reaction to his mental taunt. He hadn’t fed for two days because of the police kil ings, because it sickened him that one of his kind could stoop so low. For the time being, he couldn’t force himself to take a human’s blood, even though he wouldn’t hurt the donor.

Her blood pounded wildly in her veins like an aphrodisiac, luring him to take his fil . She tried to remain emotionless, but her cheeks blossomed with color, the tinge of pink spreading to her neck. Her breasts rose with her quickened breath.

“No woman is immune to me. We’re alone. Why don’t you admit you find me…irresistible?”

“Arrogance is the only thing that becomes you,” she snapped.

Hel , she
was
telepathic. That certainly shed a different light on the situation. “Sleep, wel , huntress.”

After shutting off the light, he left her alone in the room to contemplate her situation further. Maybe after she slept she’d be more cooperative.

Shaking his head, he seriously doubted it.

Upstairs, Daemon poured himself a glass of wine at his bar and stared at the high-ceilinged greatroom, ful of antique mahogany furniture covered in dark brown brocades and velvets that had been in his family for centuries. He contemplated his next move concerning the murdering vampire when the woman screamed from her cel ar prison, interrupting his thoughts.

“Let me out of here, you…you—”

“Sleep, Tezra
.
”
He considered forcing her to sleep, but—

“Don’t tel me what to do! Daemon, let me out of here!”

Before he could respond, his longtime friend and confidant, Maison, asked from outside his home,
“May I enter?”

Tezra grew quiet as death.

“Come in
,
”
Daemon replied, slightly perturbed by the intrusion, but suspecting word concerning the huntress would soon spread, and several of his kind, even the kil er, might attempt to see him.

His blue eyes wide with curiosity, Maison appeared next to him. He wore his golden hair tied back in a leather strap. Jeans and a buttondown col ared royal blue shirt was his typical attire despite his being the regional director of the vampire clans in Oregon. “I’ve heard disturbing news.”

Daemon motioned to Maison to silence his words. He poured a glass of Chablis for him, then led his friend to the couches in the greatroom. “We have a guest.”

Maison listened for several moments to detect Tezra’s presence. Her blood pulsed rapidly through her veins, enticing any vampire within range. “She’s not one of us.”

“No, but she has telepathic abilities.”

Maison’s facial expression changed from curiosity to concern. “Why have you…you do not think she wil make a superior blood-bonded mate, do you?”

Daemon choked on his wine and sputtered, “No.”

Maison rubbed his square chin and concentrated again. “Then why is she imprisoned in your cel ar, if I may be so bold as to ask, my prince?”

“Atreides took her hostage.”

“Damn, Daemon. You know how many already think he’s involved in these kil ings.”

Irritation flowed through Daemon’s blood. His brother couldn’t be the murderer, though even he had some doubts as to the state of Atreides’s mind since the police officers had kil ed their uncle. “It isn’t him.”

“Every time another city police officer dies, he’s glad. Even though we know he isn’t involved, his actions make him suspect.”

“He tried to protect the woman.”

Maison’s blond brows arched. “The one in your cel ar? I hear her rapid breath, her pounding pulse, even the gnashing of her teeth. Who is she?”

“The one the murderer wil target next.”

“The woman from the Special Crimes Unit who’s investigating the murders?” At first Maison frowned, then his face lit up. “The bait. Very clever of you. I feared you had fal en for another one of them.”

Daemon scowled at him.

Maison quickly said, “I understand your reasoning for taking the woman into custody.”

“We can’t afford an al -out war between the SCU and the vampire clans. That’s where this is headed if this maniac recruits copycats, especial y since some already admire him for his brashness, feeling humans aren’t of consequence anyway. But those of the SCU are a different matter. Because of their training and cunning, and since they were affected by the plague like us, some rogues feel they’re much more of a match and want to target them. The rogues’ actions are fol y.”

“I agree.” Maison took a seat and drank some of his wine. “What’s the plan?”

“We find the renegade and terminate him.”

In many ways, Maison and Daemon were a lot alike. They had both been through so many wars the images of blood and broken bodies blurred. They wanted the best for their people and everyone else concerned.

“Let me out of here, Daemon!” Tezra screamed.

Daemon’s jaw ticked as he fought smiling at the woman’s tenacity. “I’d assumed she’d fal en asleep.”

Leaning forward, Maison set his half ful glass on the coffee table. “When wil you let the others know you have her?”

Daemon glanced in the direction of the cel ar. “When the trap is set.” He turned to face Maison. “In any event, I don’t want her harmed. If she remains on her own, whoever the kil er is wil most likely eliminate her. When the word goes out that I have her in protective custody, I’l need you, my brother and three of our most loyal friends to help safeguard her. Until then, have an additional security detail provide perimeter protection.”

“When do you want the word sent that she’s here?”

“I need to learn what she knows about the kil er. The more we understand about who he is and what he’s become, the better chance we’l have to fight him. Give me two days at the most.”

“If she doesn’t know anything?”

“We’l have to take our chances.”

Maison finished his wine and rose from the couch. “I’m on it.” He turned his head in the direction of the cel ar. “She is crying.”

“A woman’s ploy to soften me. It wil not work.”

Maison nodded. “I’l send the security force at once.”

When Maison vanished, Daemon poured himself another glass of wine. But Tezra’s sobs grew. Sighing, he set the glass aside, then appeared next to the bed where she sat.

“Go to sleep, huntress.”

“I’m an investigator by trade, not a huntress!”

Though he was wel aware her job description stated she was an investigator with the SCU, the way she’d protected her bodyguard and doggedly pursued the kil er vampire, she seemed more suited to being a huntress. Which made him wonder why they hadn’t trained her in that field instead.

Even as tired as she looked, she was beautiful, her pink glossy lips pouting, her green eyes sparkling. The image of freeing her from the leather she wore instantly came to mind again. “You’re exhausted. Sleep.”

“I can’t sleep like this. I can’t stand being in a room without windows, buried beneath the ground. It…it gives me claustrophobia.”

Suspecting she had ulterior motives, he held firm. “It’s the safest place for you…for now.”

She rubbed her temple. “No. I’l go mad down here.”

Folding his arms, he said, “If I take you from this room, you’l have to sleep in my bed with
me
.” Which triggered unbidden images of tangling in a carnal embrace with the enchantress.

“Why don’t you just lock me in another bedroom?”

Darkly amused at her suggestion, he gave her a wry smile. “You’d find a way to escape. You’l stay here.”

“Why do you think your brother didn’t murder the policemen when others believe he did?”

“He didn’t kil
you
.”

She studied him, then took a deep breath. “Please, let me out of here. You can use me as bait upstairs, aboveground. Please don’t make me stay in this tomb.”

“You won’t like it in my room any more than you do here.” He was certain of it, and he was sure she’d try to worm her way out of his bed if she could too.

She was petite like Lynetta, the huntress who’d stolen his heart, but the similarity ended there. Tezra’s hair was longer, darker, more striking, her eyes emerald, hiding a history he sensed would reveal a hel of a lot about her if he could dig into her psyche and discover it. He was certain she had no intention of being used as bait, not by him or anyone else. Some SCU officers lived on the edge, notoriously lying when it suited their purpose. He couldn’t trust her.

Yet, he tried to sense if she were tel ing the truth about her dislike for the cel ar. A light sheen of perspiration covered her skin.

Her breathing was too fast. It appeared she real y
was
claustrophobic.

Cursing, he grabbed her wrist. He heard her sudden intake of breath, felt her maddeningly enticing rapid pulse beneath his fingertips, begging him to drink of her nectar. Trying to ignore the feelings she stirred in him, he growled inwardly, transported her to his room and deposited her on the bed.

Coffee-colored curls cascaded over her shoulders in a windswept mass, giving her a wild, untamed look. Her expressive eyes showed her every emotion, from earlier when he entered her office and she’d been so startled, to now, pleading for compassion.

If he gave in to her this time, what would he do next? He was determined not to lose his soul to her like he’d nearly done with Lynetta.

“Can you turn on the light?” she asked.

Waving his hand, he switched the crystal bed lamp on, il uminating the room in a sultry pale glow.

She surveyed the room and simply said, “Big…and dark.”

“It has windows and is on the
second
floor.” He motioned to the bed. “Tuck yourself in.”

“Are you certain you can’t lock me in and sleep somewhere else?”

Unwil ing to play games any longer, he advanced on her.

Her eyes widened.

“In bed, or I wil ignore your wishes and return you to the cel ar.”

Frowning, she proceeded to remove her leather jacket. “If you were a gentleman, you would leave.” She gave him an annoyed look, her eyes chal enging him.

He raised a brow.

“Forget it.” Dropping her jacket on a chair, she climbed under the velvet comforter, stil ful y dressed. She watched him with narrowed eyes. “Wel ?”

“Wel , what?”

“Aren’t you going to turn off the light?”

His lips twitched, betraying a smile. After extinguishing the light, she stil looked in his direction, though as black as the room was he knew she couldn’t see him.

She sighed deeply. “Wel ? Aren’t you coming to bed?”

He reiterated, “Sleep. And do not aggravate me further. You won’t be able to leave this room, so don’t contemplate—”

Before he could say anything more, he sensed his brother outside, of al the damned things.

“Daemon, will you let me in?”
his brother implored.

Her eyes widened.

“He won’t take you from here. Sleep, Tezra.”

Scowling, she closed her eyes.

He waited until her breathing softened, then he locked the door to his bedroom. Furious with himself for letting her manipulate him so, he left her to meet with his brother. If he wasn’t worried she’d try to escape or someone might attempt to reach her, he’d sleep in the cel ar himself.

Daemon reappeared at the bar, grabbed his glass of wine and took a couple of healthy swal ows. Biting back a curse, he said,

“Freely, I open my house to you, my brother.”

Atreides appeared next to him, but turned his attention toward Daemon’s bedroom upstairs. “Why is the huntress in your room?

Not confined to the cel ar? Hel , even you said she was a dark huntress—they’re the worst kind.”

“Not that it’s any concern of yours, she’s frightened of the cel ar.” He poured his brother a drink. “And technical y she works as an investigator, not a huntress. My mistake. So why are you here?”

“You can’t fal for the woman, Daemon. You know what happened last time. For sixty, no seventy years, you wore the blackest mood.” Atreides took a swig of his drink. “Besides, you have the worst luck when it comes to turning women you intend to be your mates.”

Daemon studied him, stil relieved that his brother had tried to protect the woman and hadn’t planned to terminate her. “Dammit, Atreides, I’m only interested in ending the serial kil ers’ reign of terror. If he murders her, the SCU wil come down hard on al of us. You and I know it. But worse, the kil er knows it.”

“Al right,” Atreides conceded, but Daemon sensed his brother’s unease. “Did you discover anything from the saliva samples of the latest victim?”

the latest victim?”

“Only that it is
not
one of our closest friends. Unfortunately, we don’t have a databank for vampire DNA.”

“Maison said you plan to use her as bait.” Atreides paced, his long stride eating up the carpeted floor. “You haven’t had a woman companion in many years. Just a quick fix here and there. I don’t think it’s safe for you to share the same room with her.”

“You’re suggesting?”

Atreides stopped and faced Daemon, his look serious, like their uncle’s had been when he laid down the law. Atreides’s resemblance to their murdered relation was uncanny—same sturdy jaw, same raw edges, no rounded flesh to soften the harsh look, same dark furrowed brows and narrowed brown eyes.