The Darkest Kiss (5 page)

Not a place I could live in, if only because the apartments didn’t look particularly large. It would have made me feel like a caged animal.

The roar of a motorcycle caught my attention. I looked around to see a leather-clad man on a big, mean-looking bike come roaring up the street toward me. He gave me a wave when he saw me looking, then slowed and drove the bike into the parking spot behind my car.

I smiled and walked back to him. “Fancy entrance,” I said, as he took the helmet off.

Ben patted his bike affectionately. “Haven’t given this old girl a run for a while. It’s nice to be on her again.”

I looked at the bike. It didn’t look anything particularly special to me. “It’s a bike.”

Amusement gleamed in his bright blue eyes. “No, it’s a 1975 GL1000 Gold Wing. Some of this baby’s features were way ahead of her time.”

“Well, I’m charmed to meet her,” I said, voice dry. “Now, do you want to take me up to your mate’s place?”

His grin was as sexy as all hell as he climbed off the bike, his teeth a stark contrast to his rich black skin. “Not into motorcycles?”

“No.” But my treacherous hormones were certainly into all that leather. He was a tall man—nearly a foot taller than me, and at five seven, I wasn’t short—and powerfully built, with chiseled features and thick black hair. And all that wonderful black leather fit like a glove, emphasizing and enhancing his muscular build.

He undid the stud at his neck, then lowered the jacket zip, revealing a dark blue T-shirt underneath. My nostrils flared, sucking in the musky scent of man mixed with just the faintest hint of perspiration.

Very nice indeed.

“I think you need to come for a ride on one of my bikes. That’ll change your tune.”

The image of pressing close to his leather-clad body as we roared through the streets on his noisy machine had my pulse rate tripping—but I wasn’t sure if it was excitement or panic. I mean, I liked looking—a lot—but I didn’t feel ready for anything more right now. A quick dance with a stranger during the moon heat was safe enough for both my wounded heart and my emotions.

This wolf was not.

I stepped back, and waved him on ahead. “Cars are safer.”

“That’s the problem. There’s no direct thrill.”

“There is with sports cars.”

“It’s not the same, trust me.” He glanced down at me, eyebrow raised. “And how can a guardian afford to get around in a sports car?”

“She can’t. But I’ve been in them.”

“Not the same.” He began climbing the building’s outside steps to the first floor, leaving me rather ideally placed for some butt-viewing action. “Denny’s apartment is the end one. He hated having neighbors on both sides.”

“Did the cops talk to the neighbor he has got?”

He shrugged, making the leather jacket ripple rather nicely. “They weren’t exactly telling me much.” He threw a grin over his shoulder. “But that could have something to do with me calling them pricks who wouldn’t know a murder if it slapped them in the face.”

“Could be,” I agreed dryly.

We reached the end of the balcony. He stopped and opened a door that looked freshly painted. The air that flooded out was filled with the scent of roses and death.

I stepped past Ben into the apartment. It wasn’t exactly a huge place, but it was neat and bright, thanks to the white walls and the skylights. The first room was a living room and kitchen combined, and the whole area was extraordinarily clean. Even the sink gleamed.

I scanned the scenery photos on the walls, wondering if he’d shot them himself, then said, “Where was he found?”

“In the first bedroom.”

I walked around the L-shaped sofa and headed toward the first door. The smell of death was sharper the closer I got to the bedroom, and my skin crawled. Not because of the death scent, but because there was something else here, something that felt wrong.

I stopped just inside the doorway, briefly noting the blood splatters on the walls and the wide dark stain on the carpet before my gaze was drawn to the heavy-looking hook hanging from the ceiling above the stain.

“That where it happened?” Stupid question, but sometimes they just had to be asked.

“Yes.”

Ben had stopped right behind me, and the thick, warm heat of him flowed over me, drowning my senses and sending desire prickling across my skin. Not what I needed right now.

Or later, for that matter.

I turned around and lightly pressed my fingers into his stomach. Felt the steel of muscle underneath the cotton T-shirt. “You need to step back. You’re overwhelming my senses.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing a woman has said to me in a while.”

He didn’t move, but then again, I wasn’t pushing very hard. Not yet.

I snorted softly. “Somehow, I’m doubting that.”

“You’d be surprised.” He took several steps back. The richness of his aroma abated enough to allow more of the room’s flavors in. “We strippers are taken for granted more often than not.”

“I thought you didn’t do much stripping now.” I turned around and took a step forward, distancing myself a little more and trying to catch the source of that tenuous, unsettling scent.

“I don’t. But I wasn’t always a manager.”

“So how long have you been in the profession?” I took another step forward. That strange scent got a bit stronger, reminding me more and more of a vampire’s scent—only if the killer
was
a vampire, then he was one who smelled like no other vampire I’d come across.

“I’ve been in the business since I was seventeen. There wasn’t a whole lot else a kid with little schooling could do. Even apprenticeships need minimum grade levels.”

The closer I got to the bed, the stronger that odd smell got, and the more certain I became it was vampire. A vampire that smelled like no other, but a vampire all the same. And he’d been here recently. I stripped off the bedcovers and bent to sniff the sheets.

The scents of wolf and sex emanated off them, but though the vampire stench was extremely strong near the bed, he—or she—hadn’t been in it. Not that it meant anything. Someone who liked hanging themselves for kicks wasn’t likely to be restricted to a bed for lovemaking.

I looked at Ben. “Were any of Denny’s lovers vampires?”

He frowned. “Not that I know of. He had a couple of wolves he’d mentioned recently, but never a vampire.”

“Well, one’s been in this room. You can smell him near the bed.”

He came into the room, filling the whiteness with his dark vitality. He drew in a breath, then his blue gaze met mine. “Something smells old. Off, almost.”

I nodded. “Vampire.”

He frowned. “Vampires don’t smell like that.”

“Maybe not the ones you associate with, but the ones I deal with, yeah, they do.” I contemplated the heavy metal hook for a moment. There were no vibes of power in this room, no chill that indicated the other side was coming out to play. Maybe his soul had moved on, or maybe he simply didn’t want to talk. “I guess the first thing we need to do is try and uncover the name of the vampire who was here. What clubs did Denny frequent?”

Ben smiled. “All of them. He liked to cruise.”

“No favorite, then? No club he went to more than others?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I could ring up and ask Jilli. She might know.”

“Jilli being one of the wolves he mentioned recently?”

“Yeah. She owns and runs a coffee shop near the Blue Moon.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Not Chiquita’s? They have the best blueberry muffins there. And the coffee’s not bad, either.”

“So this coffee that I owe you—shall I pay the fee there?”

I considered him for a moment, seeing the amusement and playfulness in his eyes, feeling the answering response low down in my belly. Wondered when—if—I was ever going to get back to the business of being a free and easy wolf.

I didn’t know, I really
didn’t
know, and I knew part of that was the fear of getting hurt again. After all, my heart couldn’t be broken again if I didn’t put it out there. And yet, how much longer could I continue to ignore a side of myself that was a part of my soul?

“It’ll probably be easier if I was there to talk to her, so yeah, that would be fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, expression a little quizzical. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re avoiding the intent behind that question?”

“Because I am.” I turned and opened the drawer of the bedside table. Painkillers, books, and condoms. I pulled one out and showed it to Ben. “He fucked humans?”

“Yes. Not all the time, but he liked the challenge of the restraint they represented. He used condoms so there were no unwanted pregnancies.”

Because a wolf didn’t have to worry about STDs, thanks to our ability to heal all sorts of things during the shapeshift. “A condom is not one hundred percent safe.”

“It’s better than nothing.” He considered me for a moment, then said, “So despite the fact I can smell your interest, you don’t want to go out with me?”

I shoved the condom back in the drawer and slammed it shut. “Don’t take it personally. I’m not going out with anyone at the moment.”

“You’re a wolf. That’s a physical impossibility.”

“Obviously, I’m not talking about the moon heat.” I stepped around him and walked to the closet. Opening the doors revealed that Denny’s neatness continued here. His clothes were all stacked via type and color.

“And I’m not talking about sex,” Ben said. “Just coffee and a chat. Nothing more, nothing less.”

I cast him a look over my shoulder, a smile twitching my lips. “I’m not believing
that
for a moment. You, wolf man, have loving on your mind.”

“I can control my mind. And I don’t do sex on first dates.”

I just about choked on my disbelief. “Yeah. Right. Must have made being a stripper hard, then.”

He waved a hand. “Stripping is different. So is sex for the need of it. Outside of work and the moon heat—or maybe even because of them—I prefer to take things slower. Get to know the girl before I fuck her.”

Then he was a rare man in wolf ranks. I shut the wardrobe door. “How about we do the coffee-and-chat thing while asking if this Jilli actually knows anything, and see what happens from there?”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Though I have to admit, I am curious about this sudden turn-about in your behavior. Last time we met, you were not so reluctant.”

“Last time we met, I wouldn’t have acted on my impulses, either. No matter how fierce the desire.”

He nodded. “I saw that. I can also see that the reason here is different. It is a puzzle I shall have to solve.”

“Try too hard and there’s no coffee. I’m not in the mood to be psychoanalyzed right now.”

I walked around to the hook. The vampire scent was strongest here, which did suggest he might have been involved in Denny’s death. “Why would someone want to kill Denny?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t the type to have enemies.”

Everyone had enemies, even the nicest of people. My gaze went to the thick metal hook. I just couldn’t imagine someone willingly tying a rope around his neck and cutting off his oxygen almost to the point of death just to get his rocks off. But then, I couldn’t ever imagine finding joy in being beaten so badly the flesh on my back hung in raw strips. Yet I’d seen that done, and had felt the sheer and utter pleasure the women had gotten from it.

To each his own, I suppose.

But even here, the point where he had died, there was no feeling of energy. No sense of the dead coming back. Denny had obviously moved on to the next level in his life.

I stepped around the dried bloodstain and checked the bedside table on this side, but there was nothing more enlightening than socks. I faced Ben again. “There’s really nothing more I can do here at the moment. I’ll need to read the police report and talk to his girlfriend before I can decide what to do next.”

If there
was
anything that could be done next.

Ben looked at his watch. “Jilli does the day shift, so I doubt we’ll catch her there now.”

“Well, great, because I actually do have a job to do. Phone her, and make an appointment for tomorrow.” I reached into my purse and took out a business card and a pen. After scrawling my cell phone number onto the back of it, I handed it across. “Ring me when you get a meeting time.”

He glanced at the number then shoved it into his back pocket. “Thanks for coming out, Riley. I really do appreciate it.”

I waved his thanks away. “As I said, it may yet turn out that there’s nothing I can do.”

“But you tried. More than the cops are doing, I fear.”

There was no point in answering, simply because he was right. The cops wouldn’t be chasing a BDSM session gone wrong as hard as they would a straight-out murder. It was a simple fact of policing life that priorities had to be given.

We left the apartment and rattled down the stairs. A couple of older men were near Ben’s bike, one of them kneeling, as if inspecting the internals. I smiled. “You’ve got fans. Or your bike has.”