Hunted, The Complete Edition: A Full-length Steamy Vampire Romance (New England Nightwalkers) (5 page)

The more she read, the more lucid and thoughtful his theory seemed. She’d played it close to the vest, not telling anyone, knowing how outrageous it all sounded. Until a few weeks ago when she first contacted Rick Gleason with her suspicions, and then again, three nights ago, when she’d told him that she had new evidence.

The very same night she’d let Gabriel Thorne into her home.

Imagine her surprise when, after some searching, she’d found a link between him and that very evidence.

Club Nitris.

The place with blueprints registered at City Hall that didn’t match the building permits.

The epicenter of a number of unsolved disappearances.

The place her father had marked on the map of the Cape with a giant, crimson X.

And Gabriel was part owner.

A shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with the bitter cold. She ran her tongue over the now-healed, almost imperceptible cut on her lip and a dozen conflicting emotions assaulted her. Anger, desire, fear, confusion.

When she’d connected the dots, she’d wondered if she was going to suddenly develop an aversion to sunlight, or be unable to see her reflection, but none of that came to pass.

Then came the other questions, almost as scary.

What if she was insane after all? So full of guilt and sorrow over her father’s death that she couldn’t separate fantasy from reality?

That’s why she’d come here tonight. And that’s why she would stay the course, no matter how terrified she was. She needed answers if she ever wanted to sleep well again.

When the bouncer at the door finally tapped on his earpiece and lifted the velvet rope to wave her through, she wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or terrified, so she settled on a mix of the two.

To her surprise and everlasting relief, there were no metal detectors, no pat downs. Nothing at all to stop her from walking in with a wooden stake strapped to her calf, a set of throwing stars concealed in a compact, or a vial full of holy water on a chain around her neck.

Which meant that these vampires were either extremely confident in their abilities, or this place was just a garden-variety sketchy business with something far less nefarious than bloodsuckers to hide.

When she thought of how ridiculous both of those things sounded, she wanted to turn tail and run again. It was only the image of her dad flickering through her mind that made her step over the threshold, out of the cold and into the dark club.

The music in the place was so loud, she was already fighting off a headache when a bartender approached her with a smile.

“What’ll it be?”

She returned the smile.

“Cosmo, extra lime.”

When her drink came a few minutes later, she took a long sip for liquid courage. It was cold, tart and delicious. Now if she could just get some distance between herself and the too-loud DJ, she could put her ear to the ground and get the lay of the land.

She turned and headed toward a smaller room that held a couple of pool tables and a dartboard. It took some maneuvering, but when she got there, she noted with relief that it was much quieter away from the blaring speakers.

She’d grown up playing pool with her mother in their basement but had lacked the confidence to play out in public very often. Standing alone in the corner wasn’t going to net her any information, though. She had to get people talking. Steeling herself, she walked over and slapped her quarters on the edge of the table to let the two guys playing know she was up next. She could feel the men stare as she took off her coat and waited for them to finish up their game.

She peeked back covertly and assessed them both. If they were vampires, they sure didn’t look like it. One of them was missing half his teeth, and the other was a good forty pounds overweight. Plus, would they really just be hanging around in a public room for anyone to walk up to them and stake them in the heart at will?

No, it seemed much more likely that they’d be a little stealthier than that.

When the taller of the two approached her with a cocky half-smile, she felt no fear.

“Hey, there. Me and my buddy were only playing singles till our friends got back with drinks. Do you have a partner?”

“No.” It seemed fairly obvious she didn’t, but she responded politely, “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to play singles. I’m leaving after one game and then you can have the table back.”

“Or I can be your partner.” His slightly bleary gaze traveled down her body and back up again. “What do you say, gorgeous?” he asked, sidling close to her and laying a hand on her shoulder.

She backed up a few steps, but he moved forward, crowding her against a corner table.

“No thanks,” she said firmly. They were in a well-lit, public place and she still wasn’t afraid, but she didn’t like the way he was getting in her personal space. “Can you back up some?”

“Aw, that’s a little harsh, isn’t it, darlin’? I was being nice to you, offering to be your partner. I could show you how to hold the stick,” he said with a leer. “Or maybe you don’t like it when guys are nice? Is that it? Hey, I’ll be your partner here for a game and then we can go over to the Dark Side and you can tell me just how you like it.”

Just as she was filing his strange words away for further thought and considering whether to make a grab for her wooden stake or just knee him in the balls, another male spoke.

“Release the lady, immediately.”

She stood stock-still as the voice she’d heard a hundred times in her dreams over the past two nights washed over her.

Gabriel Thorne.

G
abriel managed
to keep his tone even, but it was a close thing when what he really wanted to do was rip the bastard’s guts out and feed them to his friend.

Luckily, the other man wasn’t quite as stupid as he looked. His nostrils flared like a cornered deer’s as he released Zara’s arm as if it were covered in lava.

“Sorry, I…we didn’t know she was with someone.”

Gabriel glared down at the pair of them, the warning in his eyes as clear as he could make it. “Get your shit together, and don’t ever come back here again.”

The shorter of the two hesitated for a second, clearly not a fan of being punked in front of a woman. His buddy, on the other hand, had never taken his eyes off Gabriel and knew exactly how serious things were about to get.

“Come on Wade, we can just go on over to that other place downtown.”

He all but dragged Wade out the door, leaving Gabriel alone in the game room with Zara.

He turned to face her, trying to shut out the sound of her harsh breathing, and the scent of her hair. She was dressed in an oversized black sweater that hung off one shoulder and a pair of second-skin jeans, capped off with knee-high black boots that clung to her shapely calves. He gritted his teeth before meeting her gaze.

“What are you doing here, Zara?” he murmured, hoping if he spoke quietly enough she wouldn’t pick up on his icy fury. He’d feared there was already some strange, inexplicable bond forming between them even from afar, but he didn’t realize how quickly it was growing until he’d seen another man’s hands on her.

Now he could almost feel that bond wrapping itself around them even more tightly, like a boa constrictor around its prey.

Run,
he wanted to mutter.
Go, before it’s too late.

But the darkest part of him knew it wouldn’t matter. The way he felt in this moment—possessive and chock full of jealousy-fueled testosterone—if she ran, he couldn’t help but chase her.

It was in his nature.

“I-I came to find…you. To ask why you left.”

He could see it in those wide, pansy eyes. Hear it in her trembling voice.

She was afraid of him.

Which meant she knew something that she hadn’t known the last time they’d been together.

The night she’d let loose and laughed with him.

The night she’d sat on her couch, cross-legged, sipping wine as they talked.

The night they’d kissed and he’d tasted her.

She looked away and swept her tongue absently over the very place he’d nipped her before swallowing audibly.

His stomach cramped as his theory solidified. She might not know what he was for certain, but she definitely had her suspicions. The fact that she’d come here to dig deeper only showed she was either wholly committed to finding the truth or she was tragically reckless. Both options terrified him, but it was time to find out which it was and nip it in the bud.

He stepped closer, his body almost touching hers as he retrieved the coat behind her and laid it gently over her shoulders.

She gasped as his fingers accidentally brushed her collarbone and he bit back a groan of response.

“You need to go, Zara. You really shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because this isn’t the place for a woman like you,” he answered honestly.

She let that sit for a moment and lifted her chin in challenge, fear taking a back seat for a moment. “And what kind of woman do you think I am?”

“You’re good,” he said simply.

“Does that mean you’re bad?” She moved now as she spoke, her hand slowly shifting to fidget with the amulet around her neck as she took a step back and retrieved her purse.

He cocked his head and engaged his hyper-senses, letting every molecule in the air rush into his consciousness at once.

Stale beer, chalk from the pool table, cherry blossoms, freshly washed cotton, tanned animal hide and—

Ah, and there it was.

Holy water.

Dread threatened to swallow him whole. He didn’t fear the water, though. His fear was solely for Zara. Had she come to hunt vampires she
knew
existed, or was this just a reconnaissance mission?

“Are you bad?”
she’d asked.

“I’m badder than you,” he answered finally.

Her throat worked as she gnawed on her lower lip, her gaze flitting around the room like she half-expected an ambush. “What’s the Dark Side, Gabriel?”

It was a question he hadn’t expected. One that likely meant she had few facts and was still poking at the nest to see what fell out. That was the first ray of hope in the midst of this shit-show.

Everything rode on how he framed his answer, so he took his time. He was about to take a major risk, and said a silent prayer that it paid off.

“Would you like to see?”

* * *

Z
ara’s heart
stuttered in her chest as she turned the question over in her mind.

Was he for real or was this a trap? Would he lead her from the relative safety of the club to some dungeon and sink his fangs into her? Or would this be the answer she’d been looking for all along?

Surely, if he’d wanted to kill her or drink her blood, he could’ve done it a dozen times between the night they’d met and now. They’d been alone for hours and she lived by herself. And still, she couldn’t help but ask.

“Should I be afraid?”

He considered that for so long, his face so intense as he did, that when he finally answered, she knew down to her marrow that his response would be the truth.

“No one will ever harm you when you’re with me.”

His words were cryptic, but for now, it had to be enough. This was too important to walk away without answers.

She sucked in a steadying breath and nodded. “Okay, then.”

He led the way out of the game room, with her trailing behind trying not to marvel at his size. Then, he turned right to veer down a long hallway giving her his face in profile. Lord he was handsome. His face, a study in contrasts. Hard, slashing planes undercut by a firm but full mouth that made her brain think dirty thoughts, even now, when she might be walking to her own death.

He stepped through a glass door at the end of the hallway and motioned for her to follow.

Breath suspended, she peered around, cocking her head as she took in her new surroundings in surprise. Gone was the loud, thumping nightclub. Now they were walking past a dozen attractive, fully dressed men and women. They sat in black lacquer bar stools sipping from martini glasses and chattering as low jazz music wailed in the background. A few couples swayed on the dance floor. There were no windows, but that was the only indication that they might be somewhere covert. Even that didn’t seem all that strange, though. If she didn’t know better, they could’ve been inside any high-end nightclub in any city.

Most notably? There wasn’t a vampire in sight. Just regular people drinking regular drinks in a regular bar.

“
This
is the Dark Side?”

She knew she sounded disappointed, but it was only because it was a dead end. Gabriel was hiding something, and if it wasn’t this, what was it?

He gave her one more searching glance before continuing through the room and motioning for her to follow him across the dance floor. She trailed on his heels as he passed the DJ booth, but then slowed when it seemed as if he was going to try to walk straight through a wall.

He reached out a hand and pressed his thumb to what appeared to be a painting but was apparently a stealthily hidden fingerprint scanner. The wall parted as the hidden door slid open with a s
woosh
and her stomach dropped.

This was it.

Into the belly of the beast.

“Holy crap,” she murmured under her breath, closing a hand over her purse just in case she needed to make a grab for her throwing stars before following close behind. They had just stepped into a small, dimly lit vestibule when he stopped in front of her.

He turned to face her and she could just make out his features in the darkness. “You ready?”

Her heart jackhammered in her chest. That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Was she ready to solve this mystery once and for all or was she going to stay stuck in the same place she’d been in for months now, paralyzed by fear.

The answer came swift and sure.

“Yes.”

She reached for her vial of holy water and said a little prayer.

Gabriel cocked his head, something akin to respect glinting in his fathomless eyes. He turned back toward the door without another word. A second later, it slid open and he stepped through.

She heard it before she saw it. The sounds of intimacy. People talking, and low laughter, and music like before, but this time there was an undertone to it all that couldn’t be denied. The voices were breathy, the music low and sultry, the laughter suggestive.

The wall of muscle that was Gabriel blocked her view, but if not, she wouldn’t have seen anything anyway because, at some point, she’d squeezed her eyes shut.

She forced her lids open as he moved to the side, clearing the path for her. She took one step and then faltered as she took in the scene before her.

There was a row of four booths on either side of them, each housing a couple, except the last, where two women sat draped over a handsome man in a business suit. The booths were tucked away in comparison to the main bar area, but not so private as to hide the fact that their occupants were in various stages of undress.

The couple in the booth closest to them broke from a passionate kiss to look up at them briefly before going back to what they were doing. Zara turned her attention to the couple at the table across from them and swallowed a gasp.

A redheaded woman on a leash dressed in all leather was halfway under the table on her knees, her face in the lap of the man seated before her. Her head bobbed slowly, hypnotically, up and down as his fingers gripped her hair, his face a mask of pained ecstasy.

A thousand thoughts swarmed her mind at once, and then all fell away as the truth hit her like a shovel to the cranium.

Gabriel wasn’t a vampire.

He was part owner of an underground BDSM club.

Relief coursed through her, so complete, it left her trembling. It explained so much. Why there had been so much suspicious activity surrounding this place. Why the blueprints hadn’t matched the permits. Why he’d run out the night they’d kissed. There had to be secrecy to protect the clientele, and they probably kept the Dark Side rooms off the permits to keep from getting raided by the cops. And last but not least, maybe Gabriel had left that night because he assumed she would be turned off by his lifestyle.

The librarian and the sex club owner. Hardly your average couple.

Before she could even fully digest it all, a loud groan caught her attention. The more vocal the guy with the redhead became, the thicker the tension grew in the room as a whole. It was almost as if the sounds and the energy of the couples in the room were feeding off one another.

“Ah, fuck, yeah,” he growled, the hand that had been laced in women’s long, auburn locks now being used to guide her, to push her head further in his lap. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the sounds of her encouraging hums and wet sucking were loud enough to hear over the background music.

A gush of heat swamped Zara’s core and her nipples peaked beneath her shirt. She shifted from foot to foot, suddenly hot and restless. Even Gabriel seemed to tense a little, his massive frame going unnaturally still.

“Deeper. Ah, yeah, that’s it,” the man in the booth muttered.

Zara tried to think of something…
anything
else, but an image crystalized in her mind, so clear, as if she was looking at a painting. Her in that redhead’s place with Gabriel on the receiving end, filling her mouth. Controlling her.

Her breath grew shallow and she felt a low pull between her thighs that she tried to squash.

It was perfectly normal to be affected by watching people having sex. There were billion-dollar industries built around exactly that. No big deal.

But a moment later, she tore her gaze away, ashamed despite her feeble attempts at rationalization. At the next table, though, directly in her new line of sight, a topless dark-haired woman had her head tossed back as the man beside her leaned in and took her pointed nipple between his teeth while she slid her hand between his legs and closed her fingers over his cock.

“Sh-should we go?” she found herself asking, mentally cursing the still raspy sound of her voice.

“I’m in charge of security. I try to stay long enough to establish a presence in each room. Usually, just knowing there are eyes on them is enough to get the patrons to behave, and then we make the rounds. A couple more minutes and we’ll move it along.”

His mouth barely moved as he spoke to her in low tones, so surreptitious. The model of propriety and professionalism.

Except those eyes. Raging hot and needy in a way at total odds with his tone. Seemed like maybe Gabriel wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.

The ache between her thighs spread and the pressure began to build. She lifted a hand to wipe away the bead of sweat that had formed on her upper lip.