Vampire's Thirst (The Awakening Series) (16 page)

“We have what we need,” Bishop said. “Finish it.”

“She can’t!” Whitcomb’s shrill laugh bounced off the walls. “Little bitch isn’t powerful enough.”

“Now, see here…” The M.E. moved closer. “You keep talking like that and I’ll duct tape your mouth.”

Whitcomb’s eyebrows climbed. He looked from the older man to Kimber and back again. “You got it for her bad, don’t you, doc? She is awfully juicy, I agree.” His gaze shifted to Kimber again. “Bet you’re a hot little slut in bed, aren’t you, necromancer?” He looked at her breasts and then lingered on the juncture of her thighs. “Yeah, baby. That’s one sweet pussy.”

“That’s it.” The M.E. tore off a piece of tape and reached for the dead man’s mouth.

Whitcomb lifted his head and sharp teeth snapped down onto the doctor’s hand. The M.E. cried out and jerked his hand away to the sound of the zombie’s maniacal laughter. Kimber saw the drip of blood before the doctor turned and hurried to the hand wash station.

Kimber put both hands on Whitcomb. Her palms tingled from the supernatural energy animating his body. It surged toward her like before. This time she was prepared and tamped it down with her own magic. She stared into his ruined face and intoned, “Richard Whitcomb, I consign you to the grave. Your soul is released once more to its everlasting journey.”

He continued to struggle and curse, but there didn’t seem to be as much strength behind his efforts as before.

“Go to your eternal rest, Richard.” Kimber ignored the curses he flung her way. She focused all her energy on him and felt the tingling in her hands begin to decrease. It was working. She caught sight of the fresh blood tingeing his mouth and realized she could use that. “By blood and magic, I consign you to eternity.”

The fight went out of him like the strings cut to a marionette. Kimber kept her hands on him a few seconds longer, just to be sure. Once she was certain there was no more magic flowing between them, she withdrew her hands and blew out a breath. Now that she was no longer a magical conduit, exhaustion dragged at her. All she wanted to do was go home and climb into bed. She knew, like always, she’d have nightmares after tapping into the Unseen. She just hoped this time they weren’t worse than normal.

She looked around the room, meeting the gaze of the other occupants. Forcing gaiety into her voice she said, “Phew! That was something, wasn’t it?”

The stenographer stared at her with accusation in her eyes then without a word gathered up her machine and left. The two security guards glanced at each other and followed her out. That left Kimber alone with the M.E., Detective Bishop, and the newly re-deceased Richard Whitcomb.

“That was
not
normal.” Bishop’s troubled eyes searched hers. “What the hell was that?”

She lifted her hands. “I don’t know.” At his skeptical expression, she insisted, “Bishop, seriously. I have no idea. I’ve never had that happen before.” She glanced at Whitcomb. “But it’s over now, so all’s right with the world. He told you who killed him, so…” She looked at Bishop again. “Go get ’er.”

He shook his head, but she saw a smile tug at one corner of his mouth. He looked over at the M.E. “Doc? You okay?”

The doctor waved at him without turning around. “I’m fine, though it’s the first time I’ve been bitten by one of my…patients.”

It wasn’t the first time a zombie had gone after someone like Whitcomb had the M.E., but it was certainly the first time she’d seen one take a bite out of anyone.

“Good. I’ll see you later.” Bishop looked down at Kimber. “You look tired. This one really took it out of you.”

“I’ll be all right.” He was a nice guy, the real deal. Why she couldn’t feel anything romantic for him was beyond her. But then, who had time for romance when there were the dead to raise and put back down? She sent him a smile. “Take care, Bishop.”

“You, too. Time to go save the world.” He gave her a jaunty two-fingered salute and sauntered out of the room.

Kimber walked over to the M.E. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She placed one hand on his upper arm.

He finished taping the gauze wrapped around his hand and held it up. “I’m good to go,” he said. He met her eyes. “This is my own damn fault for getting within biting distance. But, hell, girl, none of ’em’s ever done that before.”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen it happen, either.” And it had never been as hard to put one back to rest. She needed to talk to another necromancer, or maybe a few, and see if they’d ever experienced something like this. Or was she the lucky one?

She made sure Whitcomb was really still dead and said her good-byes to the doctor. She grabbed her handbag from the chair by the door and left the room. As she exited the building, she saw a man sitting on the trunk of her twenty-year-old POS that still ran in spite of being held together by hope and rusted bits of metal. The illumination from the pole light she’d parked under gave a glossy sheen to his black hair. When he saw her he slid to his feet.

Duncan MacDonnough. Vampire prince-wannabe and royal pain in her ass. She’d known him for a couple of years. There’d been an initial, immediate attraction she’d done nothing to fight until the night she’d realized what he was and what that meant for her—that because of him she and her parents had come to the attention of the local vampire queen, and her parents had died.

After that she’d made sure to keep things friendly but not too friendly, but there had always been a sexual undercurrent flowing between them she couldn’t deny. She knew if she issued an invitation to her bed he’d take her up on it. She just wasn’t overly interested in a relationship where her lover could drain her dry. No matter how sexy he was.

“Duncan,” she greeted. After the night she’d had she was in no mood to put up with any of his crap.

“Kimber.” His deep, husky voice rasped across her ears. As usual, his demeanor was solemn. Somber. “I hear you had some trouble tonight.”

She stopped a few feet away from him and crossed her arms with a scowl. “And how did you hear that?”

“Bishop.” He rested a lean hip against the back fender of her vehicle. It creaked and she had the hope it wouldn’t fall off. How embarrassing would that be? Duncan added, “We talked briefly when he came out to his car.”

She frowned. “What, you’ve just been hanging out in the parking lot?”

One of his dark brows quirked. On anyone else she would have thought it to be a sign of humor. With Duncan… She didn’t think she’d seen him smile more than a handful of times over the years she’d known him. “As a matter of fact… I was not,” he said. “I came to see the doc, but when Bishop told me what happened and said you were on your way out, I thought I’d wait to talk to you out here.”

“Talk to me about what?”

“You know about what.”

She tightened her lips. She was not going to work for him or his queen. There was nothing in the world that would make her join forces with a bunch of bloodsuckers, even if she did regularly spill her own blood on the job. For one, she didn’t trust that none of them would bite her. Second, she didn’t trust that none of them would bite her. Yeah, that whole biting thing they had going on was the overriding reason she refused to work for them.

She shoved memories of her parents’ dying expressions, agonized and fearful, to the back of her mind. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered and moved forward. “Get off my car.”

He straightened and let her unlock the door. As she opened it he said, “Maddalene is very determined, Kimber. And very old, which means she’s more powerful than you can know. I’ve never known her to not get what she wants eventually.”

“Well, then, I guess she’ll finally have to learn what disappointment feels like.” She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat and turned to face Duncan. He was less than six inches away. She gasped and backed up until she bumped into the open car door. She hadn’t heard him move. It was surprise that made her move back, that was all. It certainly wasn’t because he was a hot, sexy beast that made her want to forget about all her misgivings. It had nothing to do with those clear glass-green eyes of his that seemed to see into her soul. Nothing to do with the way the muscles of his shoulders, arms and chest seemed to beckon her to rest within their shelter. Nothing to do with the way his night-black hair beckoned her fingers to twine in its depths.

He rested a long arm on the roof of her car and bent toward her, effectively caging her in the opening of her car. “Be careful. She won’t put up with this attitude of yours any more than she’ll continue to accept your refusal.” His somber gaze held hers. “She wants your necromancy services, Kimber. She’ll keep coming until you give in.”

Kimber crossed her arms and tipped her head back so she could look into his handsome face. He had six inches on her in height and outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds, making her feel feminine. Protected, even though he was what he was.

She looked her fill. Pretty, pretty man with long black eyelashes framing those incredible eyes. Her gaze drifted to his mouth, those sensual lips that tempted her so much. She drew in a bracing breath. It would take more than what he had to make her put herself into harm’s way. As much as she didn’t want to, the memory of her parents’ deaths at the hands of vampires—vampires who had been under Maddalene’s command—that memory kept flashing into her thoughts. It didn’t matter that Duncan had destroyed the ones who’d killed her parents. It was all too little too late. There was no way he would tempt her to forget exactly what he was, what he was capable of.

Yep, keep telling yourself that, Kimber. Maybe at some point it’ll actually be true.
She cleared her throat. “She can’t force me.”

“Can’t she?” He leaned closer until his mouth was a mere inch from hers. “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”

“Oh, I think I do. I have a scar to prove it, remember? You were there.”

“And you’ve never forgiven me for not protecting you then.”

She clenched her teeth. He’d promised no harm would come to her, and she’d believed him. She’d trusted him. Even after Maddalene had given the order to have Kimber’s parents used as vampire bait, Kimber had believed that Duncan would somehow protect her from the bitch queen. He’d kept Maddalene from killing her, but Kimber had a scar that ran from the left side of her throat down her back—a constant reminder of her fight with the vampire race.

“No, I haven’t,” she said in answer to his claim. In reality, she had, at least intellectually. Emotionally was another matter. It all came down to trust, and she wasn’t sure she could trust him.

He was so close she could see herself reflected in his eyes. Her pulse pounded in her throat. She resisted the urge to clap her hand over it, though as close as he was she suspected he could hear the increased rhythm of her heart. She couldn’t deny his appeal, and she refused to be ashamed of having a natural reaction of female to male. But she wasn’t going to let him seduce her into doing something she didn’t want to do. “I said no, and I meant no.”

He stared into her eyes. She didn’t feel him in her head, so she knew he wasn’t trying to use his vampire wiles to influence her. “You need to reconsider,” he said, his breath puffing against her lips as he spoke. “I promise you, this time I
will
protect you. With my life if need be.” His voice deepened. “I’m telling you this for your own good, Kimber. Reconsider.”

She planted her palms on his chest and pushed him back, aware with some anger that the only reason she was able to budge him was because he allowed it, not because she’d been strong enough. “Is that a threat?” she asked, staring hard at him. She didn’t care if he was faster and stronger than she was. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. She made sure her voice was hard and tough. “Are you threatening me?” She almost added “punk” to the end but her sense of self-preservation prevailed.

Nevertheless, his eyes narrowed at her tone. “No, I’m not. I’m trying to help you.”

“Help…” She shook her head. Vampires didn’t ordinarily go out of their way to help people, especially people like her, people who held sway over the dead. It made them nervous, she supposed, seeing as how they, too, had been dead once upon a time. They had to have the thought, somewhere in the back of their minds, that maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to control them if she put her mind, and her magic, to it. She hadn’t ever seriously considered doing it, because if she tried and couldn’t, it would be very bad for her. Or if she was successful and then released control—again, it would be very bad for her.

Tapping into the Unseen wasn’t something she did on a whim. It took a lot out of her, and she nearly always ended up with nightmares for a few nights after. Most other necromancers she knew did, too. No one really knew why, though they assumed it was because of the power they drew upon to reanimate the dead.

In an effort to sort the mishmash that was her brain at the moment, she closed her eyes for a second. She couldn’t think clearly and look into that gorgeous face. When she lifted her lids again it was in time to see his dark head bend close. Passion flared in his eyes before he hid it by dropping his lashes. Then his lips slanted over hers and she lost her breath. And maybe her mind because, God help her, she liked it. A lot.

This was the first time he’d followed through on the desire she’d seen reflected in his eyes from the first time they’d met. A reciprocated desire she kept trying to deny to herself. But now, with his kiss, the truth was impossible to refute. His mouth was cool against hers at first, quickly warming from contact with her lips.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Big hands came up and cupped her face, tilting her head to the angle he wanted as he devoured her lips. His tongue glided between her lips to tease and torment. He swallowed her low moan. One hand slid down to her waist, drawing her closer, while the other hand cradled her skull, fingers tangling in her hair.

Kimber slid her hands around to Duncan’s back. Feeling off-balance, she gripped his shirt to hold on in a world gone topsy-turvy. The feel of his firm flesh beneath the fabric served to heighten the desire she’d denied earlier. Now it flared to new life, setting her heart to pound hard against her ribs and her core to soften.