Forbidden Touch (7 page)

Chapter 1
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Mitch unlocked his apartment door. He turned the knob; the keys slipped from his fingers. When he bent to pick them up, the door opened about three inches. He heard a sound and froze. Someone was in his apartment. He reached for his gun, then cursed as he realized that he'd had to hand it over to the Captain. He could shut the door and call Lazarus to come and subdue the intruder, but he knew if he could make it to the counter, he had another pistol in the drawer.

He moved beside the door and pushed it open. He waited a moment then quickly glanced into his apartment. He didn't see anyone. It may have been his nerves that made him think he'd heard something. He waited another moment, and then walked as quietly as he could manage to the kitchen drawer. He pulled it open and swiftly palmed his Beretta. He glanced at the living room, nothing there. He backed against the hall wall, and with both hands on his weapon at the left side of his body, he crept slowly toward the bathroom.

"Put the gun down before you hurt yourself, Mitch." He turned swiftly and pointed it at the voice, her voice, but she wasn't there.

"Who are you?" he said nervously as his eyes darted around the living room.

"I am who you think I am."

"And who, or what, exactly would that be?" He still had the gun pointed at air. He couldn't see who he was talking to, but he knew he didn't trust her. He was looking at major prison time here, maybe even the death penalty.

"Did you not ask me last night if I was her? Oh, for Christ's sake, Mitch, put that damn gun away. I'm not going to hurt you."

He could imagine the things she could do to him if she could make herself disappear, but for some reason he believed her. He didn't know why, she was trying to get him thrown in jail for the rest of his life. He lowered it and sighed. "You have some explaining to do."

"I know," she said, and her voice cracked with emotion.

He turned his head to the side and looked at the couch. There was a perfect impression in the cushion like someone small was sitting there. Why did she sound so upset? He should be the one in tears here. "You can start anytime," he said, his tone unrelenting.

She sighed. "You're in trouble."

"Tell me something I don't know," he said, staring hard at the couch, where she was invisible but clearly present.

She looked at him. Was he angry with her, or…oh God, he thought she'd gotten him in trouble. "You think I caused this." It wasn't a question. She could tell by the look on his face that's exactly what he was thinking.

"You haven't exactly given me a reason why you wouldn't do this to me. Are you saying you didn't frame me?" He waited a moment and listened hard. Was she crying? "Damn it! Quit being a coward and show yourself."

"It isn't that simple!" she shouted through her tears. "I've already broken too many laws."

"Yeah, I would say you have broken a few laws, twenty of them. Murder is illegal in every country in the world. Framing a cop for murder is illegal as well, so you've broken twenty-one laws. I'm positive I can come up with more if I had more time, but I don't have more time! They are going to put me in prison and probably give me the death penalty for this."

"I didn't kill those people, Mitch, and I didn't frame you. I've been trying to help you find the killer. I don't know who it is, but I know what it is."

He closed his eyes and rubbed his free hand down his face. He was exhausted, and this wasn't helping. She was trying to make him guess everything. "What the hell is it then, a witch, like you?"

He thought she was a witch? Maybe that would be a little easier for him to believe, he already seemed to. No, she couldn't lie to him. If he ever did find out what she really was, he'd hate her. Here goes everything. She glanced at the window; the sun had set, so she was safe, sort of. She made herself visible before his eyes.

His eyes grew wide as he stared at the most beautiful woman he'd ever gotten the privilege to look at. Her body was toned as if Michelangelo himself had sculpted her. She had long dark brown hair and bright green eyes. Those eyes had captivated him from the first moment he'd seen her in his dream. She was perfect in every way that he could see. The hand holding the gun lowered to his side. He would have dropped it to the floor if it wasn't already a habit to hold it in his hand. "God, you're beautiful."

She didn't smile. "It isn't your laws that I am referring to. I'm talking about the laws of my people. Humans aren't supposed to know about us. They'll kill me, and you, if they find out that you know about us."

He was a little panicked by her words. He wouldn't let anything hurt her. "No one is going to kill you. I can protect you."

She laughed out loud. He thought he could protect her. She was flattered that he would try, but some of the Elders were so powerful that all they had to do was look at a mortal to make them fall over dead. She lost her smile. She couldn't let them hurt him. "I was wrong to come here," she said as she stood from the couch and started for the door. He stood and grabbed her arm. She immediately grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him a foot off the floor. He gasped in shock as she looked up at him. "Do you still think you can protect me? There are people like me that are much stronger than I am. I'm not a witch, and neither is the killer. Why do you think you are being framed?" She let him go and he fell into the recliner.

He stared up at her, disorientated, then finally found his voice. "When I left here last night, I went to a gym to blow off some steam. The punching bag wasn't doing it for me, and there were four other guys there lifting weights. I talked the biggest guy into getting in the ring with me, but boxing was my choice of sport in high school and he wasn't a match for me. I knocked him out with three or four hits. He was unconscious, but really he was fine when I left. I came straight back here and went to bed. When I went into work this morning, my Captain informed me that he was one of the bloodless victims, and the guys that had been with him had witnessed his murder. They said the guy was a cop and described me. If you know something about all of this, I need to know. I haven't killed anyone." He took a few deep breaths, then looked back at her. "How are you so strong?" he asked, like he still couldn't believe it.

She walked back to the couch and sat down. She put her head between her knees, and took in several deep breaths. She looked up at him. "If I told you that my people would kill you if you knew anything about this…would you still want to know? Because believe me, Mitch, they can…and they will."

He huffed. "I'd rather die trying to find the true killer, than spend the rest of my life in prison, or die for a crime I didn't commit."

She didn't have the skill to tell if he was lying, but she could clearly see by the look on his face that he wasn't. She was risking both their lives by doing this, but the Rogue wasn't giving her a choice. She couldn't let Mitch take the fall for this. She took a deep breath and let it out. Here goes. "What's the most radical thing that you have ever heard in your life?"

He didn't wait a heartbeat before responding. "The last five minutes pretty much sums it up."

She rolled her eyes. Great. He was going to hate her after he found out what she really was. She took a deep breath, and on the exhale said, "I'm a vampire."

He got to his feet quickly without speaking a word, and walked down the hall. He came back with a lost look on his face, like he didn't quite comprehend what she told him. He paced for a minute in the small living room, and then looked at her for a moment. He began pacing again. She was going to let this huge amount of information soak in before she told him anymore. Good, he thought, he didn't think he could hear anymore just yet.

A good five minutes of pacing later, Mitch came back to the recliner and sat down. His eyes were unseeing. He couldn't focus, and it was a little hard for him to get oxygen into his lungs. He had to get control of himself. The beautiful female specimen on the couch just informed him that she was a vampire. A VAMPIRE! Vampires didn't exist. Of course, he'd thought witches didn't exist a little while ago, and he was all for saying she was one. He shook his head and looked at her again. She was waiting patiently for him to take all of this in. Okay…okay, he could deal with this. He told her that he wanted to know, and she had only done what he'd asked of her. He shook his head again. A vampire.

"All right." That was all he could think to say.

All right? She shook her head, thinking that maybe he was in denial. Well, if not, he'd certainly taken it better than she thought he would. "I don't know who the killer is, but I have certain skills that are important to the tasks I do. I can usually find the Rogue vampires a lot sooner, but this one is different. His brain is fried with insanity, and all I can get from him are the images of the people after he chooses them as victims. He has been waiting forty-eight hours from the time he chooses them, until he goes through with it. I've been entering your dreams to put those images in your head for the last four weeks, hoping you would catch on and locate them before he killed them," she sighed. "But you didn't."

"I thought I was only having nightmares, or that I was going crazy. It wasn't up until yesterday that I thought I might be psychic. Why didn't you tell me in my dreams?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't talk to you. You aren't supposed to know about us." She pleaded for him to understand how much of a risk she was taking. "I never meant for you to be caught up in all of this, Mitch."

Had her intentions been to never talk to him, or touch him, if she had found her killer before he found out about her? He laughed lightly to himself. Was he still trying to convince himself that she liked him? Women as beautiful as her didn't seduce guys like him. How many times had he told himself that? He was still hanging on to a small thread of hope. She had told him that she was a vampire, and yet here he stood, wanting her more than anything in the world. His life was falling apart, and he couldn't think of anything more wonderful than feeling her naked skin on his.

He rubbed at the aching pain behind his temples with his fingers and simply felt drained. "And now that I am?"

She looked at him with confusion written all over her face. "What do you mean? We are going to track the Rogue and his victims together, I'll catch him and then you can have your life back. And we are going to try and do it without my family knowing that you know about me." She was pointing at her chest, and she was dead serious.

She was very cute when she was serious, he thought.

He shook his head again. "What I mean is," he took a deep breath and looked at her. "Now that I know about you, and when we find the killer and everything is over and done with, are you going to vanish from my life?"

Her mouth had been open with her sober look, but when he finished talking she closed it with a snap. He couldn't be thinking that they could be friends. He was a mortal, and she never would be again. The visions in his dreams let her know that he thought she was repulsive. But looking at him now, he didn't have that look on his face, even after being told what she was. He was looking at her with longing in his eyes. Did he want her still? No he couldn't possibly. "I have no other choice."

He stood and paced some more. He was going to wear a hole in the hardwood floor of his apartment and land on the person under him if he didn't stop. "How old are you?"

"Why do you need to know? It doesn't pertain to the case, so I think the less you know about me, the easier they will be on you when they find out." He just looked at her without answering. Again she asked him. "Why do you need to know how old I am?"

"What's your name?" he said instead.

She looked away from him. "I don't think you need to know that either."

"Yes, I do!" he shouted. It got her attention enough to look back at him.

"Why? It can't possibly help you," she said, meeting his stare.

He clenched his jaw together and spoke through his teeth. "Because I want to know the name of the woman that I am in love with, and I want to know that she isn't a minor before I make love to her."

Ciera gasped and got to her feet. "No! You can't possibly love me. I have already gone too far. If we fall in love with humans…it's certain death for us. You have to understand. We can't be together."

Tears were flowing out of her eyes and he couldn't understand why. He was surprised at how easy it was to say that. Of course, he had never been in love before, and he'd never been one of those guys who said it just to get a girl in the sack. One thing he did know was that, besides the case, she was all he could think about for the last month. It had to be love. He'd never felt anything so strong before in his life. The only other woman he'd ever said those three words to was his mother. And why would him loving her cause her trouble? Unless…unless she was in love with him, too. He took a step forward. She stared at his foot as though it were a rabid dog about to bite her.