Prince Of Darkness

Prince Of Darkness – Bloodborn 03 Page 1 of 155 Prince of Darkness Bloodborn – Book 3 By Tracy L. Ranson Married to he...

Author: Ranson Tracy L

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Prince Of Darkness – Bloodborn 03

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Prince of Darkness Bloodborn – Book 3 By Tracy L. Ranson Married to her job cop, Christine McCall wants to find the murderer of her best friend and partner, David Williams. Pushing aside the guilt she feels at not being able to save him from


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death, Christine reluctantly agrees to allow Drake Haaken, owner of the BERSERKER club where David had been killed, to help with the investigation. Thrust into a world that she never knew existed, Christine is torn between her human loyalty and vampire love. The choice she makes may end her life.

Chapter One “Are you sure this is the right club?” Christine McCall asked her partner, David Williams. She brushed an errant curl over her shoulder and surveyed the nightclub scene before her, silently tamping down her anxiety. Musky, sweat-laden bodies swayed to the hypnotic beat of the music, close and pulsating. Strobe lights danced all around, adding to the mystery of the nightclub. A dazzling-looking deejay flashing beaded dreadlocks and very white teeth was spinning records from the booth in the corner. Christine edged closer to David, her fingers clutching his arm. She honestly didn’t want to be here. Too many people and too many unknowns. Unfortunately, the police chief had called for their going undercover to help solve the strange, savage, blood-draining murders occurring in Beaumont. So far, no clues hinted in any direction, making it all the more sinister and sadistic. “Sure is,” David said and leaned in close enough for her to catch a whiff of his sensual, musky cologne. Men’s scents always turned her on except where David was concerned. She’d always thought of him as a big-brother type, not a lover. “The last victim danced here before she was found.” Christine frowned, her eyes narrowing. Dark figures hugged the walls, filling the couches and every available space. People in a various states of undress touched each other and elicited moans of ecstasy mingling with the Latin influenced rhythm of the music. If any place harbored a killer, this would certainly be it. Named after a Viking warrior who fought with the heart of a bear, the Berserker club certainly lived up to its name. She jerked when David’s voice broke through the aura of her mind. “Then let’s split up and see what we can find.” David disappeared into the thick throng of people on the dance floor, the blue of his dress shirt disappearing through the darkness shrouding the club’s interior. Christine drew a deep breath to calm the anxiety storming every cell of her being and made her way to the bar, clutching her small purse with shaky fingers. She ordered a gin and tonic and sipped the alcohol slowly as she scanned the bar. Everyone had secrets to hide, all wearing invisible masks to hide their true selves. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then lifted her lids. She’d never fit in a place like this. People reached out to each other here, almost in a desperate display of desiring attention. That wasn’t her. Affection could get you hurt, not only emotionally but also physically. Mom had taught her that at an early age. She slewed her head to the right. Nothing new there. She turned left. Gray eyes with the


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fierceness of a summer storm stared back, cold and calculating yet containing a raw sexuality. Immediately her heart pounded. Who was staring at her? Knock it off, McCall. It’s nothing. Christine caressed his face visually, noting the high cheekbones and sculpted nose. His full, sensual lips appeared knowledgeable and gentle as if he could awaken every pore of her body with one hot, searing kiss. Her breathing quickened a little as the corner of the sexy man’s mouth turned upward as if he knew her deepest, darkest desires and would be happy to bring them to life. Long blond hair framed his face in an angelic formation, and from the way he stood, he was probably about her height. His gaze smoldered with a depth and brilliance she’d never experienced, its raw sexual electricity crackling in the air. Christine’s heart roared as the strange man’s gaze intensified, the light gray turning steely. Almost instantly, the image of this man’s head buried between her thighs and sucking her pussy for what it was worth rose inside her mind. Naturally, her body reacted. Christine closed her eyes again. The vivid fantasy came to life as the stranger rimmed her dripping folds with his tongue, teasing her drenched slit endlessly, up and down. In this daydream, she bucked against his face, dousing him with her juice. She demanded more, much more sucking and teasing. With a soft chuckle, the stranger obliged her by taking her clit between his teeth. He nibbled the swollen nub between his lips, making sure to caress the blossoming flesh with the rough pad of his tongue. She writhed beneath his expert hands, wanting so much more from him. One orgasmic wave washed into another one in the daydream, driving her of the precipice of wild, unabashed desire and ecstasy. “Do I frighten you?” A smooth, silky male voice broke through her thoughts and sent a bolt of electricity dancing up and down her spine. She snapped her eyes open amid her slightly ragged breath. The handsome stranger stood before her, much taller than she imagined. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Not all at.” “Good because I do frighten a lot of people.” He swept into a low bow. “Drake Haaken at your service.” She detected a bit of an accent in his words, but she couldn’t place them. A part-time student of linguistics, she normally could place any lilt, but this one escaped her. “Thank you, Mr. Haaken, but I really must be going.” Her throat constricted the closer he came, the smell of his musky aftershave overwhelming her no end. Her sex wanted to cream inside of her panties. She’d have to get out of here really fast before anything happened.


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He clamped a hand on her arm. “Do you really?” Bolts of strange desire rumbled up her limbs and stretched out the rest of her body, awakening every inch to his burning touch. She looked down at the strong fingers wrapped around her arm, unhappy with his uninvited clutch. One thing she hated in life was to be touched by people she didn’t know. “Please let go of me.” Quietly, he released her. “I must be going. I have an early day tomorrow.” The sexy half smile returned, accompanied by a quick jerk of his left eyebrow. “Don’t leave before telling me your name.” “Christine McCall.” Her open jaw shut. She had inexplicably defied department protocol. She’d never given her real name on any of her assignments, and she wasn’t sure why she did now except a strange feeling compelled her to. Her nipples puckered beneath the lacy cups of her bra, the hard points pressing hard against the fabric. Thankfully, she’d decided to wear a bra with a slight bit of padding. Otherwise, this stranger could read her desire as easily as he would a book. “Well, Ms. McCall, it seems as though we’ve got a problem here.” The weakness in her legs barely kept her standing. “What is that, Mr. Haaken?” “Music is playing, and we’re not dancing to it.” Christine vacillated between dancing with him and getting the hell out of Berserker. She didn’t belong here, that much she knew. But dancing with a man who appeared as though he stepped off a romance novel cover definitely did not fit her at all. “I don’t dance.” She spoke the truth. Jason never took her dancing or actually anywhere really. He preferred to sit at home and mentally abuse her. “You will with me.” His warm, silky baritone voice provided all the impetus she needed to leave. She didn’t want him to have the chance to be disappointed in her lack of rhythm. Before she could utter another sentence, a warm blanket of security washed over her. She relaxed her tense muscles a bit, almost as if those very words eradicated every ounce of anxiety out of her. Mr. Haaken grasped her hand and led her to the dance floor. The music changed to a very low, methodical beat great for slow dancing. Dancers cleared the way for them, parting like the Red Sea. He guided her to the middle and took her right hand in his left. For a brief moment, she thought he’d take her into an old-fashioned-dance embrace reminiscent of a waltz, but apparently, he


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possessed other ideas. His thick arms wound around her and held her to his hard form. She wanted to run away from him, get out from under his touch, but some unbidden force enticed her to stay. His hand slid up her back, his chilly palm spanning the width, almost as if he attempted to keep her from running. “This feels good, doesn’t it?” “Yes,” she heard herself say in a throaty whisper. Where did that come from? After Jason, she never wanted any man’s touch, but she inexplicably craved this stranger’s. “I want you to call me Drake,” he whispered into her ear. Christine trembled against him and laid her head against his chest, closing her eyes. Her better senses told her to run yet being this close to a damned good-looking man felt wonderful. “Drake then.” The silkiness of his white shirt brushed against her face like the softest swan’s down. Tendrils of his blond hair brushed against her cheeks, silky and soft. Drake’s black leather pants rustled against her miniskirt, the thick bulge poking in her belly unmistakable. She knew what he wanted, what all men wanted eventually. “You are a beautiful woman, Christine. Why don’t you come with me for a private drink?” Just a she opened her mouth to reply, a scream erupted in the crowded club. Her senses returned in a flash, and she snapped out of the strange trance, slewing her head toward the sound. “Someone’s been murdered in the alley!” Christine shoved her way through the throng of sweaty bodies toward the back of the crowded club. She nearly flashed her badge but remembered in time that she was undercover. Rushing through the crowd, she made her way out to the dimly lit back alley only to see David Williams, her partner, lying in a thin pool of his own blood. Fright for his life propelled her to his side. She dropped to her knees and cradled his head in her hands, her breathing erratic. “David? Can you hear me?” His eye fluttered opened. “Christine? Is that you?” “Yes, it’s me, David. It’s Chrissy.” She normally hated the name, but for some reason, she felt okay with David calling her that on occasion. Centering her attention on his injuries, she noticed the gaping wound in the area of his jugular vein, bright red spurts of crimson spraying with every beat of his heart. She immediately applied pressure with the tips of her fingers to stop the bleeding. Don’t die on me, damn it!


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“My girl,” he said softly. “Where ya been?” She rocked a little bit and told him in a reassuring tone, “I’m right here.” He licked his bloody lips. “I can’t see you. Where are you?” She stilled while the tears threatened to roll of her eyes. “Someone call for an ambulance!” she cried into the crowd. Cell phones flipping open echoed over her shoulders as most in the throng tripped over themselves to call for help. She looked down at David’s pale, drawn face made ghostly by the dimness of the light over the exit door. “I’m right here, David. I’m not going anywhere.” David turned his dying stare into her face and told her, “Good because I’m scared.” She brushed stray wild strands of his dark hair out his face and brushed a kiss across his semi clean forehead. “Don’t be. I’m right here with you. What happened?” Thick plumes of blood bubbled between his lips and congealed. “I was just dancing with this broad. Then all of a sudden, she attacked me.” Thin, distant wails of sirens allayed her fears he would die. They’d make it just in time and save his life. “The ambulance is almost here. Just hang on.” David’s blood dripped onto her skirt, but she didn’t care. He’d been like a brother to her in the years they’d been partners. They’d been two kindred souls lost in the turbulent sea of life. Just like her, he’d been kicked out onto the streets at a young age, forced to find his own way through life. At least he didn’t have a crack-addicted teenage mother and no idea who his father was. “I will,” he groaned. His eyes fluttered a bit more and closed, his breathing slowing down to almost a soft whisper. Tears misted her eyes, but she held them back. She never cried for any reason and now wasn’t the time. She rocked a bit. “Don’t die on me.” David put his arm around her neck and pulled her closer in an apparent effort to erase any existing doubts “I’m not gonna. I’ll be back.” The rescue squad stopped next to her, and two paramedics jumped out loaded with equipment. Holding onto his hand, she held David’s head in her lap while they worked to start IVs and inject meds. Once stable, the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance and roared off toward the hospital with wailing sirens and flashing lights. She wanted to ride with him, but the idiots who responded to the call had to talk to her and ask some questions. The extensive numbness and shock had made the task almost impossible.


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Christine unblinkingly climbed into the cruiser and stared straight ahead through the smudged window. How in the hell could this have happened right under her nose? **** Drake watched the chestnut-haired beauty climb into the police cruiser and concentrate her blank look to the world ahead of her. She seemed so upset yet so composed at the same time. He’d never seen a human do that before. “How did you make out with your beauty?” Nicholas asked from his right. “Not very well I’m afraid,” Drake said slowly and, with his arms crossed over his chest, watched the police urge people back into the club. The alley crawled with detectives, all of whom would want to question him at some time or another about the attack since it had happened outside of his club. He wasn’t in the mood for any type of interrogation at the moment. “Don’t worry, she’ll be back.” Nicholas leaned in close. “How do you know?” He shrugged. “Just a feeling. I think I’ve piqued her curiosity about me.” Nicholas laughed. “Half the human females around here have a piqued curiosity about you. What you need to do is settle down and find a mate.” “No.” His friend stepped in front of him. Nicholas sported a concerned expression of narrowed eyes and knitted brows. “Look, it’s been over a few hundred years since you’ve had a permanent mate. You can’t have an endless parade of women in and out of your bed all the time.” “Who says I can’t?” Nicholas crossed his arms. “It gets old, my friend. Take Tatiana, for example. I wasn’t looking for a mate necessarily, but when I found her, I was grateful. I never thought I’d ever love again after Cleopatra.” His fingers clenched at the thought of his first wife. Dagmar had been his only true love, and her existence had ended over several hundred years before. He’d never go through losing his heart to anyone else again. “That’s you, not me. I don’t want a mate.” Nicholas shrugged. “You’ll see differently in time, I’m sure.” He turned to the trove of men trolling the scene for clues. “Do you think they’ll want to talk to you about this?” “More than likely.” He sighed, dropping his arm. “I guess I’d better get it over with.” He moved to approach the detectives and answer any questions they had for him. They grilled


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him like a well-done steak, but he didn’t care. His mind remained on the stoic chestnut-haired woman he’d danced with earlier. She’d clung to him and held on as if she were afraid to let go, much like his wife, Dagmar, had so long before. Even Melissa, his previous fling who died in a car accident, had never held onto him like that. He found the woman’s embrace refreshing, for most modern women wanted things their own way and didn’t want a man to lean on. Drake remembered the curve of her face well, including the smoldering depths of her whiskeycolored eyes. She wanted him, he sensed, but some prudent side of her remained restrained. He’d entertained the thought of taking her to bed tonight, but when her boyfriend lay in the alleyway bleeding to death, his glamour broke and she rushed to her man. When he witnessed her caring and compassion, a stab of jealousy pierced his non-beating heart. Would a woman ever care that much about him ever again? **** Pushing back her tears, Christine stared blindly at the blank forms sitting on her desk. She needed to remain strong for David. He would pull through this, and then things would be okay. They’d have their days of fun again. “Christine,” Captain Lou Carpenter yelled from his office. “Come in here.” Christine rose on shaky legs and walked to the captain’s office. She still wore her bloodstained clothes because she didn’t want to waste time to go home and change when she needed to fill out all the paperwork regarding David’s attack. So far, the only thing she’d filled out was his name and put a few more teeth marks into her pen. She walked into the postage-stamp-sized office composed of four glass walls outfitted with cheap metal shades that had seen better days. A whirring tabletop fan looking like a refugee from a military surplus store buzzed in the corner, doing nothing more than blowing stale cigar smoke around. Christine slid into the battered chair across from the captain’s desk. “Yes?” Her throat constricted from unshed tears, but she refused to give in. To cry was a sign of weakness. Lou leaned forward and placed both hairy, meaty forearms on the green blotter covering the top of the beaten metal desk. His round eyes conveyed the depth of his concern. “How are you doing?” “As well as can be expected.” He pointed to her bloodstained clothing. “Why didn’t you change?” “I just wanted to get the paperwork started. Besides, I want to be here when the hospital called about David’s condition.”


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Lou rubbed both hands over his bald head then over his face. He looked up, his face composed with a sorrowful expression. “I’m sorry, but David died fifteen minutes ago.” Numbness circulated throughout her body while the air grew thick and stuffy. What the hell? She could barely breathe as she mulled the words over in an effort to understand the meaning. “Are you sure?” “I just got off the phone with the hospital. The attack he suffered was too vicious, and they couldn’t get him stabilized. I’m so sorry. I know how close you were to David.” Stunned disbelief surged, making the tightness in her throat grow. She paused then swallowed hard. “I’d like to make his funeral arrangements.” “I don’t think you should.” She bent from her waist and hugged herself tightly. “Look, he has no family and I’m the closest thing to that. We’ve often talked about what we’d like to happen to us, so I know what his wishes are.” Lou’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you can do this?” Christine nodded. “Yes, I can.” **** The boat rocked uneasily in the waters of the BeaumontBay. Christine couldn’t have picked a better day to scatter David’s ashes. The sun shone brightly overhead without a hint of clouds, dappling the gorgeous sapphire-blue water. In the distance, she could see a pod of dolphins jumping and playing in the warmth of the sea. David’s chilly urn rested her hands, slightly numbing her fingers. She held the handcrafted copper vessel all the way out here, silent and subdued. Others from the department had accompanied her, including Lou Carpenter. She blocked out their inane chatter from her mind while she held onto David for the last time. They’d often talked about what they wanted done with their remains after death, a ghoulish topic to most to say the least. David always wanted to be cremated and scattered at sea. She wanted a little crypt in the cemetery near her grandparents. Christine hugged the urn. She didn’t want to let him go, at least not yet. It had taken her over two weeks to plan this trip out here. She’d placed the urn on her mantle and would stare at the nameplate on it at night when she had the temptation to call him to see what’s up. Sometimes, she even forgot he was gone. So many times, she wanted to cry and rage against his death, but she couldn’t. It was if some


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monster kept a stranglehold against her emotions. “Are you all right?” Lou asked and slid into the bench seat next to her. “As well as to be expected under the circumstances,” she said with a sigh. “I really didn’t ever want to have to do this.” Lou took her hand into his own and squeezed gently, very calm and reassuring. “None of us ever plan on this. It’s sort of like a wound. It hurts like hell in the beginning, but over time, it heals over. Unfortunately, there will always be a scar.” Just like my heart. There would always be a spot there for David as long as she lived. He was one man she’d never forget. The boat stopped about a mile away from shore and dropped anchor. She clutched the urn and stood on shaky legs. “Before I commit David to his final resting place, I’d like to have everyone say a few words.” She handed the urn to Lou, who mumbled a few words amidst his tears. Each of the detectives, teary-eyed, said something, except for her. She continued to remain strong. Once the urn came back to her hands, Christine said her final words to David’s remains, “Goodbye, my friend. I’ll love and miss you always. You’re never far from my thoughts. Now rest in peace.” She turned and dumped the contents of the urn into the water. Gray ash escaped into the crystal blue sea. They formed a vague human shape briefly, eliciting a collective gasp from the throng. The outline hovered for a moment, and then dissolved to become one with the sea and nature forever. Christine shook the copper vessel to make sure all the ash fell into the water. Once finished, she capped the urn, set it down on the deck and resumed her seat. She said nothing and stared at the floorboards of the craft. Why hadn’t she been there to protect him? He’d always had her back, just as she had his. This one time she’d let him down. Lou resumed his place beside her and tried to engage her into conversation, but she refused to talk to him or anyone. She retreated into the one space inside herself where she let no one venture. The last thing she would ever do was allow anyone into to her life and be close to her. David had been as close as she allowed him to be. She learned long ago never to trust anyone enough with herself or her secrets. Mom had taught her that through beatings and mental abuse. Good, old crack-addicted Mom, who had tried to sell her for a few rocks here and there, thought only of her self-gratification. Nothing else mattered. No wonder she hated the woman. Shoved out into the streets at sixteen, she’d made her way through and became a police detective in the process. She had shared choice bits and pieces of her past with David since he had an almost similar one.


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Christine leaned back as the boat pulled up anchor and headed back to shore, the nose of the vessel bobbing with each wrinkle of wave. She would have loved to know who her father was, but even Mom didn’t know. Probably one of Mom’s many johns. She stiffened. No time to think of that now. She had to go back undercover and find out who killed David before they struck again. **** “Sit down, Christine,” Lou Carpenter said and gestured to the chair in front of his cheap, wellworn metal desk. She sat and exhaled a hard breath. She’d spent all weekend going through David’s things at his apartment and getting them ready for charity or the Dumpster. She put it off as long as she could, but time ran out. David’s landlord wanted everything gone so he could get the apartment ready for a new tenant. Her chest had hurt the entire time she packed up his things. One thing she did keep was their photo from the Grand Canyon when they vacationed together. When they returned, everyone had assumed they were having an affair, but not so. They stayed in their own hotel rooms. Never once did David ever try to come onto her. “What’s up, Cap?” Lou scooped his pudgy fingers through the tufts of remaining hair, making the coarse strands appear as if he’d stuck his finger in a light socket. “Look, I know how tough this has been all for you. I’m putting you on administrative leave for as long as you need.” The flesh of her face heated. “Why?” “You’ve got too much of a personal stake in this. I think you need time to grieve. As a matter of fact, you might want to take a vacation. I can arrange for a coupla weeks off for ya.” Christine’s hands curled at her sides. “No thanks. I just want to solve David’s murder.” His eyes blazed. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m taking you off the case.” She wasn’t giving into this one. “No dice, Cap. I’m staying on the case.” “No, you’re not.” “I want to stay.” “It’s out of my hands now, Christine. The word from above is that you’re to stay home until David’s murder is solved.” Silently, she seethed. How dare he stop her? “So that’s it? No chance to plead my case before the superiors?”


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“I’m afraid there isn’t.” Lou rose and circled his desk. He stopped at the corner and slid his generous ass on the edge, his hands in his lap. “Go home and take some time off. God knows you deserve it.” She stood. A tight circle wrapped her throat like a hand attempting to strangle the life out of her, making it difficult to breathe. It wasn’t Lou’s lousy aftershave doing it for a change. Her emotions remained too bottled up inside of her. She’d blow soon and would need to be by herself when that happened. “Maybe you’re right,” she said with a smile. Over the years, she’d gotten quite good at hiding any emotion on her face, a trait that had served her well. She gave him a weak grin and said, “A little time off would be good.” “That’s the spirit.” Lou touched her arm affectionately. “When you come back, I’ll make sure you’re briefed as to the progress of David’s case.” “Good. I want David’s killer caught as soon as possible.” “He or she will be. In the meantime, get out of here.” Christine hugged Lou despite her urge to gag at his cologne. At one time, the scent had probably been good, but mixed with sweat, it turned sour. “See ya in a few weeks.” With that, Christine gathered her things and headed out the door. She jumped into her Mustang and sped down the freeway toward home. On the way, she stopped at the corner market and picked up the ingredients for beef bourguignon without thinking. She started to chop the carrots and mushrooms when the explosion of emotion and feelings crashed in on her. She slammed the knife against the full cutting board and fell to her knees on the floor, surrounded bits of carrot and mushrooms scattered in crazy patterns. She rocked as the tears flowed. Beef bourguignon had been David’s favorite dish, and she didn’t care for making the dish because the preparation was so labor intensive. She did make the meal a lot because David loved the dish so much. Her chest ached as she cried. How dare someone do this to David? He’d been her rock in times of trouble she let him be. He was so sweet and innocent. How could this have happened? Christine’s breath hitched hard as the last of her tears and sobbing faded away, her mind suddenly clearer now than ever before. She couldn’t let David down. They may have taken her off the case, but she had all this available time now, so why couldn’t she investigate the case on her own? The department didn’t have to know everything going on in her life, especially when she wasn’t on its dime. She wiped the last of her tears away. Her tide of grief passed with the speed of wind whipping through a cornfield. The time to mourn was over.


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Christine stood and pulled herself together a bit more. Her makeup was probably running down her face, but she didn’t care at the moment. She had become an empty vessel, ready to be filled with information to find David’s killer and bring them to justice. She owed him that much. **** Sleep eluded her again tonight. Christine gave half a thought to taking a sleeping pill, but she disregarded the notion. The medication made her feel out of touch all day, and she didn’t need the distraction. Christine flipped to her right side and looked at the window. Gauzy curtains danced on the crisp wind of the night, an indication that autumn lay not too far away. The full moon showered the earth with a silvery pall, bathing everything in an eerie whitish glow. On nights like this, she and David would sit on her porch swing and contemplate life. They would get into the most odd and philosophical conversations ever. She’d miss that. No one else existed whom she could talk to in the way she did with David. Her eyelids grew heavy, feeling almost as if two giant boulders had been attached to them. Good. She’d be falling asleep naturally and getting up pretty much when she wanted to the next day with a clear head. She grinned. It felt good knowing she didn’t have to get up at five am during the week to get ready for work. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts roll on. “Chrissy.” Christine’s eyes snapped open. Her heart raced at the sound of David’s voice and pounded at her temples like a thousand elephants charging through. Where did that come from? She lay silent and listened to the sound of blood pulsing in her ears waiting to see if she heard the voice again. Nothing happened. The ticktock of the miniature grandfather clock out in the living room broke the eerie silence. She exhaled a hard breath. It was just the fact she made the beef bourguignon tonight brought on the sound of his voice, just a psychological hold over from her grief session in the kitchen. She closed her eyes again, David’s voice called softly again. “Chrissy,” She jerked up. Now she knew she heard his voice as plainly as she would anything else. “David? Is that you?” A silhouette figure emerged from the depth of shadow hovering near her wardrobe. “It’s me,” he said.


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He walked toward her soundlessly, almost as if he glided. Christine’s breath caught. An icy ball of terror formed in her belly and lay there like a brick. “You’re not real,” she choked out in a strangled whisper. “You’re just a figment of my imagination.” “I’m here,” he stated from the darkness. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew the figure to be him just the same. “I told you I’d find a way back.” “But you’re dead. I scattered your ashes out to sea the other day.” Sudden footsteps propelled him out of the shadow and into the moonlight. Why hadn’t she heard that before? She gasped. David’s tanned face had blanched into a pasty white color, his lips as red as a rose. His navyhued eyes had lost their color and had turned an icy blue, piercing and direct. A suit composed of black leather covered him from head to toe. “No, you didn’t.” “Yes, I did.” She lowered her head and stared at the blue flowers on her comforter. “I’m dreaming. It’s the only explanation for this.” David reached out, placed an icy forefinger under her chin, and lifted her face. “It’s no dream, Chrissy. I’m just as real as you are.” “No, you’re not. You were cremated, and I scattered your ashes out at sea.” She pointed to the bronze urn sitting on her dresser. “See that? That’s what carried your ashes and that’s what I took out to sea.” Christine shook with terror though she knew this all to be a dream despite its deep, disturbing reality. The David-thingy walked over to the dresser and peered at the urn, his eyes narrowing. “Impressive, though I must tell you that it wasn’t me in the urn.” He spread his arms. “How could it be when I’m right here?” She swallowed the growing lump in her throat summoning her courage. “What do you want?” He moved so quickly the only thing she could see was a black blur. He appeared at her side with the suddenness of a summer storm. Peering down, he smiled showing two sharp canine fangs. “You, my dear.” She inched away from him as far as she could on the bed. “What do you mean? We’re friends, not lovers.”


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“I wanted to be more, but you’d never let me. Never let me into your world and never let me know who you are really. You always kept me at a distance.” Tears pricked at her eyelids. This dream felt entirely too realistic. “I never knew.” “You know now, Chrissy, and here’s your chance to rectify things.” She touched his face and found his skin just as cold as his fingers. “Why are you so cold?” “Death will do that to you.” He moved closer, stinking of rotten earth and mold. Her belly lurched. “What do you say? Come with me and be my mate.” He smiled again but not the same warm grin she’d grown to love over the years. This smile bespoke of evil and malice, not of caring and affection. “No, I won’t. Not in life and sure as hell not in death.” A strange fountain of power sprang up inside of her, its source unknown. Perhaps her dream self kicked in. “Oh, you will, even if I must force you,” he growled and lay on top of her, pinning her down. “You will be mine.” Just as she opened her mouth to scream, another figure emerged from the shadow, much taller than David with very long, light-colored hair. “Let her go.” She detected a faint European accent in the deeply masculine voice, the tones completely all too familiar. David turned, but not before droplets of saliva dripped from his fangs onto her face, stinging where the moisture fell. “You.” The figure stepped forward into the steady shower of moonlight in her window. Her savior was none other than Drake Haaken from Berserker! Why in the hell did she have to bring him into this dream?

Chapter Two “I said leave the woman alone. She belongs to me.” Christine, worried, flicked her gaze to David. His face contorted into an evil mask of rage.


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“She is mine. You never marked her nor claimed her as yours.” Drake stared at David with eyes swirling with different colors of blue, gold, and brown mingled with black, and informed him in a hard edged voice, “I am staking my claim now.” David’s expression turned feral. “Then I will fight you for her then.” “It won’t be an easy fight because you’re so new and your powers haven’t developed yet. I see Zakara hasn’t taught you a thing.” “Oh, she’ll teach me more, I swear it. Now get out of here.” “No.” Drake remained calm and cool throughout this exchange, the only indication of any other emotion was the twitch of the muscle in his left cheek. He wore the same black leather suit as David except his long blond hair gave him the appearance of an avenging angel. Christine’s heart hammered. David’s grip on her tightened as the two men in her dream battled each other’s strengths. “Then I’ll be forced to kill you,” David said through clenched teeth, the smell of death surrounding him getting stronger. “Try, but you’ll fail. Run back to Zakara, you little shithead, and get away from my woman.” David rose with the reluctance of a cat giving up its mouse and closed the distance to Drake. He stood almost a foot shorter than Drake and weighed about fifty pounds less than her savior did. Drake appeared to be made of all muscle. “I will leave for the moment, but I will be back to claim what belongs to me.” “Try and you’ll die.” “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” Christine watched David dissolve into a black mass and melted back into the shadows, becoming one with the night. Once he’d gone, she exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mr. Haaken. I’m grateful—” Drake held up his hand. “I thought we’d already had this discussion before. Call me Drake.” “Drake then. How did you know to come here?” She was positive this dream man would give her some cockamamie story about hearing her call for him. “Let’s just say I had a hunch,” he remarked as he walked over to the bed and knelt next to her.


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He touched her face. He stared intently as if to examine her for any type of injuries. His fingers felt as cold as David’s. “He doesn’t seem to have hurt you at all.” “He didn’t.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “This is some dream. I’m going to have to remember this.” “Of course,” Drake stated in a deep, sexy tone. “But before I leave, may I have a kiss in payment for your safety?” She shrugged. It was only a dream. What harm could it do? “Sure,” she replied. Drake’s chilly lips brushed hers. He remained gentle and swept the outer corners with his tongue. Moving toward the center, he caressed the line with a gentle sweep. Eagerly, she opened her mouth and let him in. He explored her mouth with infinite expertise, his tongue enticing hers to come out and play. She followed his lead, and their tongues dueled for favor. Her nipples turned to hard points in response, her pussy convulsing with welcome cream. Without thinking, she slipped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. He deepened his kiss for a moment, and then slid from her mouth to the valley of her neck. With his magical mouth, he teased and nibbled her skin. Instantly, her sex gushed with juice, her hips rising. God, he’s barely touched her and she’s ready to bed down with him. This was some dream. A sharp sting at her neck drew her attention but only for moment. The whirling maelstrom started at the pit of her belly with each pulse of his lips, and worked its way along her veins. She came in a roar and cried out. She could barely breathe for the hammering of her heart. Blood sang in her temples. She’d never had a mind-blowing orgasm like this one before, even with Jason. “Wh-what did you just do?” “Nothing you didn’t want me to,” Drake said as he pulled back. With a stranger horror, she noticed his lips changed color from a lush pink to a dark crimson. “You’re safe now. No one will harm you while I’m around.” He brushed his fingertips in a delicate sweep across her brow. “Sleep now and remember this as a dream. I will see you again soon.” Before she could ask any more questions, Drake disappeared in the same black mass as David and became one with the night. She touched her neck where Drake had bitten her, but there was nothing there. She yawned. Of course, stupid, it was just a dream.


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Christine rolled over. Dream or not, that had to have been the best orgasm she’d ever had. Damn, the mind was definitely the most erotic place on a woman’s body. Sleepiness closed in, and she gave up to the blissful night. **** Drake looked at the window he’d just left, his cock rock hard. Damn, the woman turned him on in more than a few ways. “She’s gotten to you, hasn’t she?” He spun around to see Alexandra, Nicholas, Tatiana, Siobhan, and Gabrielle standing behind him. “I wouldn’t exactly say that. I was just protecting her.” He switched his gaze to Nicholas and Tatiana’s clasped hands. They loved each other quite well, and there were times the nip of jealousy at their devotion bit him, but not enough to go out and seek his own mate. Alexandra’s laughter pierced the night. “Sure, and I’ve got some land in Florida I’ll sell ya, too,” she said and tossed a lock of her jet black hair over her shoulder. “You’re smitten. Admit it.” “I’ll admit to nothing.” He looked around. “Where are Raphael and Liz?” “They’ve decided to hunt alone tonight, which means they’re holed up in their cave making love for days on end.” His dark blond eyebrows quirked. “Not such a bad idea. Any takers?” he asked playfully. He’d been to bed with the women of the coven with the exception of Tatiana. In the end, they’d all concluded that they were better as friends than as lovers. “None,” Siobhan grunted and scratched the base of her blonde head. “We’ve all been down that road before, remember?” Gabrielle nodded her fiery red head. “Yep, we have.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Now let’s be serious. What about you and the lady cop?” He looked to the window ruefully. He didn’t want to admit that the girl had gotten under his skin like a virus he couldn’t shake. “There’s nothing to tell. I just saved her from her partner who was bent on having her for lunch.” Nicholas spoke up. “How did you figure out he’d been turned?” “When he lay there bleeding in the alley, I noticed the puncture wounds on his neck that had been cut to look as though the wound had been inflicted by a knife. I think one of Zakara’s vampires have gone rogue and she turned him to clean up the mess,” Drake said. “You know how she loves opportunities to create new minions.”


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“True,” Nicholas commiserated. “That means her legion has grown by one more at least.” “If not more,” Drake interjected. “I did stake my claim on her, so she shouldn’t be bothered anymore by her rogue partner.” Tatiana touched Drake’s shoulder in a warm, comforting gesture, her gentleness and compassion shining through like a beacon. He saw why Nicholas loved her. “Don’t be too careful where this is concerned, my brother,” she said softly with her Russian-lilted voice. “Zakara has been known to ignore another’s marking.” “She won’t mine because she’ll regret it if she does.” He touched the silver-blonde tresses streaming down Tatiana’s shoulders. Her hair reminded him of the palest winter snow in Norway during his time there. “Thank you, dear sister, for your concern, but all will be well.” Her generous smile widened. “Of course it will. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starving. Shall we hunt?” One by one, they merged with the darkness and set out to hunt the night’s meal. Despite their ability to walk in sunlight, thanks to the sun spell Raphael discovered in Zakara’s grimoire, they still preferred hunt at night. A lot less chance of their prey would see them coming. Drake hunted mindlessly, doing so more out of necessity than hunger. His thoughts lingered on the beautiful woman he’d saved from her blood-hungry partner. Why did she intrigue him so? She is like Dagmar. The memories of his late wife floated through his head now and again, perhaps every hundred years or so. Yet twice in two days, he’d thought of his former love. He shook his head. No matter what happened, he’d never become emotionally attached to anyone. He’d never lose another love again. **** The ringing phone beside Christine’s bed dragged her from the depths of necessary sleep. Swearing under her breath, she groped for the receiver. “Hello?” she mumbled. The dream from the previous night still lingered in her thoughts presumably because she hadn’t quite recovered from the awesome mind bending orgasm. “Sorry to wake you, Christine,” Lou said, sounding distant on the other end. “I want you to know we’re bringing in the owner of the Berserker club for questioning.” She jerked into a sitting position. “When?” “He’s agreed to come in around noon and answer any questions we have.” “Good. What time is it now?”


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“Around ten.” Christine ran a hand through her straggly locks and blurted out reflexively, “That’ll be enough time to for me to shower and be down there.” “You’re on vacation, remember? I didn’t call to tell you this so you can fly down here and play bad cop.” She let a titter of laughter fly. “You know me better than that, Lou. I have a few questions of my own for him, that’s all.” Silence abounded at the other end for a minute. “I’m sure you have your own agenda, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come down to the station.” “Try to stop me.” Christine replaced the phone before Lou could issue another objection to her coming down and talking with the club owner. She flew out of bed and straight into the shower. The owner was probably some old man from back East who didn’t take kindly to women cops questioning him. Well, tough shit. He was going to get grilled like chicken at a summer picnic. After her shower, she picked her most conservative suit and twisted the unruly wavy mess on her head into a tight chignon. She applied understated makeup along with a bit of bronzer to give her the sun-kissed glow. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to know she was grieving for David in the slightest. Christine spun on her heel and left the room. Time to get the investigation underway. **** Drake lounged in the proffered chair across from the fat bald police captain. Silently, he searched the man’s mind and discovered disgusting secrets the old man hoped no one would know. He smiled. “Tell me how I may be of help to you.” Captain Carpenter leaned back in his chair and threaded his hands behind the thick rolls of his neck. Large pools of sweat soaked the yellowed underarms of his white shirt and permeated the air with acrid odor. Drake grimaced inwardly. “We just have a few questions for you, Mr.—” “Haaken,” Drake finished. “I don’t really have anything to tell you. I didn’t see anything.” “But it was your club the officer was found outside, was it not?” “Yes it was, but it doesn’t mean I did it.” He shifted and pushed the errant strands of his hair back over his shoulder. “As a matter of fact, I resent the implication.” Captain Carpenter leaned forward, thankfully, and closed the sweat factory underneath his


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arms. “I meant no disrespect, Mr. Haaken. It’s just that the officer was one of our own, and we’ll not rest until we find his killer.” “I’m afraid that’s going to be a lot harder than you think.” “How so?” Drake crossed his legs one over the other in causal stance. He needed to appear relaxed and confident despite the anxiety rising in his lifeless veins. “A lot of people come in and out of my club, so to question them all would be impossible. Also, there’s no tracing who comes in and out.” “Don’t you have any regular patrons?” “Quite a few. Far more than you’ll be able to account for.” Captain Carpenter opened his mouth to speak when a soft knock on the glass window of the door interrupted their conversation. “Come in,” he said in a surly tone. The door opened to reveal the beautiful woman he’d marked the night before. Gone was the pale skin, replaced by flesh bronzed by the sun. Her wild chestnut hair swept up into a tight bun at the back of her head allowed him to behold the beauty of her swanlike neck he’d tasted the night before. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his dick stiffening in response to the sight of her. His gaze swept over her form in a gentle caress, drinking in the high heels accentuating her slim, well-formed legs to the short skirt and jacket outlining her womanly curves. He narrowed his eyes on her breasts and noticed the faint outline of hardened nipples beneath the lacy cups of her bra. If his nose wasn’t mistaken, desire oozed from between her legs, a scent too light for any mere human to detect. **** “I’m here, Lou,” Christine said. Spinning on her heel, she turned to him and gasped. A blush of pink rose from her neck and splashed over her face. Ah, the memory of last night flooded her mind. “What are you doing here?” Drake rose in a gentlemanly manner and grasped her hand, kissing the back of it. “I’m the owner of Berserker.” Christine remained stock-still as shock surged through her. She expected the old man from her earlier assumption, not the Viking warrior standing before her dressed in tight jeans, a white shirt, and boots. His blond hair, pulled away from his temples and clipped in back, shone gold in the morning light. Her breasts tingled at the sight of him, and her clit throbbed in response. What was wrong with


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her? “Do sit down,” she asked in a shaky voice. “As you wish,” Drake answered with a warm, sexy voice. Christine’s knees weakened, and she quickly sat down in the chair next to Lou’s desk. “I have just a few questions for you, Mr. Haaken.” The corner of his full, generous mouth curled into a sensual half smile. “Please call me Drake.” She acquiesced and put on her most effective emotionally detached face. “Drake then. Now, Drake, did you see anything that might help up in this investigation?” “Nothing except the beautiful woman I danced with that night.” The heat in her cheeks intensified. “Let’s just keep on the subject, all right?” She noticed Drake’s even, white teeth, and for one wild moment, she imagined them nibbling on her flesh and awakening every pore and cell of her being. “All right.” He stretched out to his full length in a casual pose, crossing his booted ankles. “I didn’t see a thing. The only thing I heard was the person screaming about someone being murdered in the alley. That’s all I know.” Christine narrowed her eyes. “What sort of clientele do you attract?” “Anyone who wants to come to my club is welcome with the understanding they may or may not get in.” Lou squinted. “I don’t get it.” “I don’t let just anyone into my club. They need to have the right look and attitude before they’re admitted.” Lou still appeared confused, so she’d best clear it up. “Remember Studio 54 years ago? They did the same thing, and sometimes, famous stars couldn’t get in. That’s what made the club all that more popular.” Lou smiled and leaned back. “Boy, do I remember it. I tried getting in a few times but never could. They were lined up around the block every weekend.” Drake’s smile stretched across his face, wrinkling the skin at the corners. “Exactly. I employ the same method to keep my business thriving.” She needed to steer the conversation back to the investigation. “I know you own Berserker, but are there any other businesses you own?” “Quite a few, but I don’t see how this all ties in to this investigation.”


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Christine finished jotting down her notes. “Maybe nothing or maybe everything. I don’t know. The only thing I do know is that this case will be solved come hell or high water. Now, where were you prior to the discovery?” Drake’s steel gray eyes smoldered and smoked with lust, that much she knew. Under different circumstances, she might have given into that hunger but not now. “I danced with you, Detective McCall. Before that, I was in my office going over some things with one of my minor partners.” “So you normally don’t socialize with the crowd?” Drake shook his blond head and sighed. “Not usually. I work best at night, so I normally stay in my office.” “What prompted you to come out?” Drake shrugged his broad shoulders. Christine couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed beneath his white shirt. Instantly, the pang to reach out and touch the sleekly smooth muscled planes of his body overwhelmed her. She took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Stretch my legs, I guess, and see what was going on in the club. Something like that.” “Who are your minor partners?” She didn’t want to get that far into his business, but she didn’t have a choice at this point. David’s murder had to be solved, and she’d do everything necessary to come to that end. “I’d rather not say.” “Indulge me.” “I don’t want to drag them into this because they’ve got nothing to do with it. They own a very minor interest in my club. I am the majority owner.” She scowled. “Are you refusing to tell us?” “Yes.” “Lay off, Christine,” Lou ordered. “He’s not under suspicion and was kind enough to come down and answer a few questions for us.” She whirled about and glared at Lou. “I’m asking the questions, and I’ll ask the ones I deem appropriate.” “Don’t ask anymore. You’re finished.” Lou rose and looked to Drake. “Mr. Haaken, you can go now. Thank you so much for coming down and speaking with us.” Drake stood and shook Lou’s hand. “It was my pleasure.” He turned to Christine and gave her


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smile that would weaken even the strongest nun’s resolve. “I do hope to see more of you.” “If I have any more questions, I’ll contact you. Do you have a number I can reach you?” Drake reached into his jeans pocket and extracted a business card. “Here’s all my information.” He reached over and plucked a pen from Lou’s pen holder. He scribbled some numbers on the back. “This is my personal home number and my cell number. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t give that info out because I’ve had trouble in the past with stalkers.” “Of course.” He picked up her hand and kissed it once more. “Jeg vil være venter til deres ringe , meg skjønnheten.” With his strange words hanging in the air, Drake spun on his heel and left the office with a soft whistle on his lips. Lou turned and looked at her. “What did he say?” “I’m not sure, but I’ll find out.” **** The computer screen, flicked on with an iridescent light and glowed, bathing the room in a ghostly glow as she plowed the Internet for the meaning of Drake’s words. She didn’t like them and their potential meaning. She tried every online translator possible, but nothing came up. What in the hell did he mean? She stood and stretched. Walking over to the window of her apartment, she stared at the night world outside. Rain drizzled, making the pavement appear wet and slippery. People moved about with slow regularity as though they had nowhere to go. Idly, she thought of Drake. Since she couldn’t find the meaning of his words online, why not just call and ask him? She glanced at her watch. Almost eleven on a Friday night. More than likely, he’d be at his club working. Back and forth, she debated in her mind about whether or not to call him. She didn’t want him to think that she wanted him despite the fact part of her wanted to touch him and to see if he felt as soft as he looked. The only thing she found disturbing about him was the fact his skin felt so cold all the time. Even when he kissed her hand in Lou’s office, his digits were chilly as well. Maybe he has a thyroid condition. She knew some people from the past with those sorts of problems who were always cold. Christine walked over and picked her cell phone up from the desk. She vacillated about whether she should call him until her fingers made the decision for her. Picking up his card, she punched


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in his home number. She let it ring three times and hung up. She dialed his cell. It rang once, and she nearly hung up when an ultra sexy voice said, “Hello, Christine.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “How did you know it was me?” “Intuition, plus I have caller ID on my phone.” “Oh,” she said quickly. “Well, I do have a few questions for you.” “Good. Meet me at the club in an hour.” “I didn’t mean tonight.” “Yes, you did. I’ll see you an hour.” A distinct click indicated that he’d hung up, disabling her ability to protest. Damn the arrogant man! She stalked to her bedroom and rummaged through her closet to find something to wear. Deciding on a conservative outfit of jeans and a sweater, Christine pulled her hair back into a clip and applied a little makeup. She threw on a pair of old boots to complete her outfit. If she was lucky, they wouldn’t let her in and she wouldn’t have to face that sexy, blond hunk of a man. She left her apartment and sped down to Berserker. Just as she exited her car, a young man appeared at her side. “Mr. Haaken sent me out here to park your car for you.” “I didn’t know he offered valet service.” “He doesn’t except for his special guests.” He extracted the keys from her hand. “Go up to the bouncer and tell him your name. Mr. Haaken doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” She frowned and whipped her badge out of her purse. “I’m a cop, and if you try to steal my car, I’ll have in jail so long you’ll be old and gray before you get out. “ The man grinned. “I work for Mr. Haaken, and I don’t steal, lady. I’m doing what I’m told and nothing more. Now go in because as I said before, Mr. Haaken doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” The man jumped behind the wheel of her Mustang and roared off. Her fists clenched, but there was nothing she could about it now. She was at Drake’s mercy for the moment. Christine marched up to the bouncer, past the long line of people waiting into get inside of the club. “Get in line,” the heavyset black bouncer barked and directed toward the end of the line. “You won’t get in, lady.” “I’m Christine McCall. Mr. Haaken is waiting for me.” The dark man squinted then smiled, showing the whitest teeth she’d ever seen on anyone. He rummaged through the clipboard in his hand, checking sheaves of paper. “Oh, yeah, here you


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are. He’s waitin’ for ya. Go on in.” She walked in, ignoring the calls and jeers from the restrained revelers outside. The club pulsated with the same strange beats of techno music like the night she’d been here when David had been attacked. Beams of strobe light danced, reflecting on the bodies lolling on the couches in various states of undress. Anxious, she looked around. Where was Drake? “He’s waiting for you in his office,” a soft feminine voice said strangely over the music. She turned to see a diminutive redhead standing next to her. The girl toted a tray and the strangest-looking outfit consisting of a rubber bra and skirt complemented by garters and fishnet stockings. The girl tottering in the six-inch platform heels couldn’t have been more than eighteen. “Follow me.” Christine walked behind the waitress to a hallway. Dim light lit the floor and guided her way there. A lonely door hovered at the end. “Go inside. He’s waiting.” She placed her hand on the chilly knob and hesitated. Why was she here? To investigate David’s death or some other reason? She pushed open the door. Low lamps glowed and lightly illuminated the dark walls covered with strange shields and swords. An empty hand-carved cherry-wood desk stood in the corner, large and imposing. She blinked hard. Where was he? “I’m right here,” Drake said from the shadows. “I’ve been waiting.” She wanted to melt at the mere sound of his hypnotic voice, but she remained firm. “Thank you for seeing me.” He stepped out of the darkness and into the light. Pale hair framed his face, giving him an angelic look. Black silk covered his magnificent upper body while black leather pants clung to his lower half like a second skin. He still wore his black boots except these had silver tips. “Of course. Anything to accommodate a beautiful woman. Do sit down.” With nowhere else left to go, Christine slid onto the black leather couch near the window. Her heart hammered and caused the blood to beat in her temples. “Thank you, Mr. Haaken.” He scowled. “I’m not going to speak to you if don’t call me by my first name. You seem to have forgotten your first lesson.” His words carried a dominant tone, arousing her curiosity as well as her body. “I’m so sorry. I just keep forgetting.” Drake’s hard mask fell. “No need to be formal around me.” He sank down onto the couch next to her and casually laid his arm across the back so his fingers were within touching distance of her. “What questions do you have for me?”


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Christine drew a blank. She’d thought of so many questions on the way down here, she wasn’t sure if she’d have time to ask them all. Now she couldn’t think of one. “Umm, well, what you said to me this morning in Lou’s office. What language was it?” He laughed softly. “It’s my native Norwegian.” “Oh, I wasn’t sure where you were from. Your accent is barely detectable.” “That’s because I’ve spent so much time here in the U.S. and very little in Norway for the last few years.” He moved closer. “Any other questions?” “What exactly did you say to me?” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips gently, his tongue lapping at her soft pads. She uttered a slight gasp. “I told you that I’d be waiting for your call, my beauty.” Her nipples burned beneath her sweater, aching for his touch. They tingled from root to tip, the edges of her areola puckering. “Um, yeah, okay, well, we need to get down to business.” Drake edged closer. “Of course we should.” His gaze switched to her hair. “This doesn’t suit you at all.” He reached back and undid the clip holding her hair. Soft curls tumbled down her back in a wild free fall. Reaching out, he ran his fingers through the loose strands. “That’s better. Hair that’s always upswept or short doesn’t do a woman justice.” His cologne overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes against the assault on her senses. Why did he have to be so sexy?

Chapter Three “Open your eyes, Christine,” Drake commanded in a soft yet stern tone, inviting her to obey. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are. I can see the terror in your eyes.” She looked away and turned her attention to the coffee table in front of the couch. Magazines of different natures covered it. “I didn’t know you had a varied interest.” Drake cupped her chin and brought her back to face the storminess of his eyes. “Don’t change the subject. Tell me why you’re afraid of me.”


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“As I’ve stated before, I’m not afraid of anyone. I’m a cop, tough as nails. I’ve brought down guys bigger than you.” He touched the side of her face and offered his observation. “But I think there’s a scared little girl inside of you that longs to find a man to take care of her and protect her.” She leaped to her feet. His keen insight into her thoughts made her feel extremely creepy. “I think this has gone far enough. I want to ask you a few questions then leave.” “Sit down.” Those two words drove her body down on the couch again, well beyond her control. What hold did he have over her?” “No more questions,” he murmured and leaned in close so that his lips were inches from hers. “Just relax and enjoy.” Drake’s mouth brushed against hers in a soft, feathery kiss. She was taken aback at the wonderful feel of his face being this close to hers. Tenderly, he traced the outside line of her lips with his tongue and then swept to the middle, where he silently begged for entry. Christine allowed him in to explore her mouth. Dear God, this feels like the dream from the other night. “Lean back,” he murmured against her mouth, and she obeyed his command again, unable to resist his words. Drake placed his body on hers, solid and well muscled, taking great pains not to strain her with his weight. His mouth moved in ways she’d never dreamed of. Back and forth, their tongues dueled for favor, dancing to a tune only they could hear. Drake slipped his tongue from her mouth to the curve of her neck just below her ear, then nibbled and teased the flesh there. She gasped as newfound feelings of wanton desire surged through her veins. Even with Jason, she’d never been this turned on before. He pulled her sweater up and caressed her belly in small circles. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh, and her stomach tensed at the feel of the coldness of his hands. She trembled against him. His hands moved a bit more and slid underneath her lacy bra. Her nipples turned to marble as he took the ripening buds between his forefinger and thumb and applied the right amount of pressure. He tugged a bit, adding a bit of pain to the pleasure he was eliciting. She gasped at the feel only to have his mouth come down on hers again, taking her for another wild ride of a kiss. He broke their kiss for a moment and gave her a sexy smile. He looked down to the mounds of breasts in his hand. Licking his lips, he dove for the right peak. He rolled the nipple around his


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mouth and nibbled, flicked, and sucked. Christine arched and, grasping the back of his head, shoved more of her breast into his mouth. Oh, she wanted more, so much more. She was ready to fuck him at this point, despite her reservations. Drake switched his attention to the neglected left breast, making sure his free hand took care of the right. His blond hair fell around her chest like a pale curtain, hiding his ministrations. She groaned a bit more and pushed further against him. His hard cock dug into her leg and tempted her far beyond what she should be. “Hey, Drake—whoops, I’ll come back later. I see you’re busy,” a man in the doorway offered, which was followed by the quick slam of the door. She jumped. The sound had broken her veil of desire, and she quickly pushed away and drew her sweater and bra down. Drake drew back with a confused look on his face. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, except someone just walked in on us.” “That was just Nicholas. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.” She leaped to her feet. Shock and outrage, not directed at him but at herself for allowing him to do this, tripled inside. She could barely breathe. “I’m not another one of your conquests, Mr. Haaken, and I never will be. I’m a cop first and foremost.” “Drake.” “I’m not going to call you by your first name anymore because we’re going to keep this on a professional level.” He stood in a slow fashion to his full height and towered over her. His gray eyes glinted like the steel of her .357 Magnum. “Make no mistake, woman. I’ll have you. When and where will be up for debate, but it will happen.” “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” Drake gripped her shoulders and drew her close, bending down so he was eye to eye with her. “You’ll be full of me before it’s over, Christine. Until then, if you should ever need any help from me for any reason, including this investigation you’re determined to conduct, let me know.” Christine straightened her clothes, which made her feel like a naughty schoolgirl who’d just had her first kiss-and-grope session on her parents’ couch. “I will be in touch,” she said brusquely


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and left the office, hurrying down the hallway to the exit. The faster she got out of here the better. **** Drake sank down on the couch and leaned back. Damn Nicholas for ruining a perfectly beautiful moment. The door opened a crack. “Is it safe to come in?” “Sure, Nicholas. Come in.” Nicholas stepped in, followed by their chosen leader, Raphael Chamberlin. “When did you get in, Raph?” “A few days ago. Liz got tired of traipsing around the pyramids in Giza, so we decided to come home early.” He flopped onto the couch. “I’m tired. She had me digging during the day and making love all night. I swear she can be a nympho sometimes. I can barely keep up.” Drake laughed. “After about five hundred years, you’ve learned to pace yourself. Liz is still a young vampire and hasn’t learned that yet.” “True.” Raphael leaned his head back. “Speaking of nymphos, Nicholas said we interrupted your little session here. Sorry about that.” “No big deal,” Drake said, lying. It was a huge deal, but he wasn’t about to let the others know. Thankfully, he’d been able to lax his cock before they returned. The less anyone knew about his emotions, the better. “What’s going on?” “Just a few business deals, plus there’s been a few rumblings coming from Zakara’s camp.” Drake lifted an eyebrow. “Such as the killings lately. One of her rogue vampire or vampires is going about making messes for her to clean up and when she does, she makes new followers, including the woman’s partner.” He leaned his head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. “I thought we would hold her with the last containment spell.” Raphael shifted. “You know those don’t last nearly as long as we want, so she’s at it again.” “I wish we could just send her back to hell to her father.” Nicholas perched on Drake’s desk, his black eyebrows drawn into a V, the emotion in his dark eyes unreadable and dangerous. “If only we could, but unfortunately, we can’t. There’s no spell in existence to do so.”


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Drake let out a low whistle. “We can wish all we want, but it won’t make it so.” He turned his face toward Raphael. “What’s going on with business?” “Don’t you want to talk about Zakara?” “Nothing we can do about her right now. We’ll have to wait again until the time is right and she’s vulnerable.” “So true,” Nicholas chimed in. “Okay, as far the business, I’ve found quite a few other lucrative ventures that’ll make all of us even richer.” Drake laughed low. Since they’d followed Nicholas’s business acumen, all of them had become millionaires many times over through the last few hundred years. “Really? How much money do you think vampires actually need?” Nicholas’s mouth spread into a mischievous grin. “There’s never such a thing as too much money.” **** Zakara lolled on the giant bed in the sumptuous room of the mansion she’d rented in Beaumont. Beautiful frescoes decorated the ceiling. Gilded furniture, in the style of Louis XVI, complemented the gorgeous, light-colored walls and the rest of the objets d’ art. She remembered the time of the French Revolution well, for she’d offered Louis and his Queen a way out of their dilemma. They’d refused her and died for their pitiful human convictions. What fools they’d been. “What are you thinking of, my Queen?” She rolled over and faced her newest vampire, David Williams. He’d been a cop as a mortal, investigating all of the bloodless murders occurring around Beaumont. One of her vampires, Cecelia, had gotten a little carried away when she had David outside of the club. Cecelia had tried to glamour David into forgetting about the investigation. When that didn’t work, she tried to glamour him into going a different direction. Again, he resisted and attempted to fight her. Cecelia had no other choice but to tear out his throat. Cecelia came to her after the fact, begging for help and forgiveness. She gave both, the latter only temporarily. Naturally Zakara had cleaned up the mess by going to the hospital and turning David. Procuring a body to substitute for his was the easy part. Enough derelicts and homeless died every day in Beaumont, often with no identification, that she could pick anyone and place David’s toe tag on it. The hospital morgue didn’t hire the brightest of humans to work there, so no one bothered to check the body before its transfer to the crematorium. “Nothing,” she said and touched his face. “How does it feel be immortal.” “I’m always hungry,” he said with a sigh. “Will this ever go away?”


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“In time, my protégé,” she answered softly and guided his hand down to her waiting pussy. She was always wet and ready for anything. She’d recently worn out her twin playthings, so she decided to give them a rest in the sun, their ashes scattered to the four winds never to be seen again. Good. They’d been good while they lasted. He jabbed clumsy fingers into her waiting sex, where he halfheartedly tried to finger fuck her. She would have none of it. “Who taught you to fuck?” He shrugged. “I didn’t have many partners.” “That’s obvious,” she snapped and pushed his hand out of her cunt. “Well, since we have a bit of time on our hands, protégé, I’m going to teach you to fuck properly so once you have the woman you want, she’ll enjoy your charms.” She didn’t mind instructing—sometimes. “Ah, I do want her,” he moaned as she pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. Moving a bit, she sank down onto his eager cock and manipulated him with internal muscles. “Except another vampire tried to stop me.” She froze. “What vampire?” “I don’t know his name, but he’s a huge vampire with long blond hair.” Her fiery blood turned to tiny cubes of ice. “Did you say he had long blond hair?” David nodded. She started her manipulation of his cock again. Drake. He’d been flying under her radar for the last few hundred years, though she’d tried to find him in various ways. How he avoided her when the others couldn’t remained a mystery to her. He was the oldest of the bunch and had probably learned a few tricks along the way to hide himself. “I know of the vampire of whom you speak.” “Who is he, and what does he want with my woman?” She rose slowly so that his cock nearly slipped from her wet pussy, then drew him back in. He groaned. “He belongs to me, or he did once.” “Then keep him away from my woman.” “All in due time.” She purred and rotated her hips, grinding her sex against his tight balls. “Since they are both something we desire, shall we work together for the same cause?”


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His fingers dug into her hips and elicited a modicum of pain flaring up her sides. Pain could be good—sometimes. “Hell yeah!” He thrust upward hard. “I want Christine McCall.” “And I want Drake Haaken,” she said. “Shall we fuck to our agreement?” Zakara proceeded to ride him harder than anyone she’d ever taken to her bed, including Drake. Out of all the vampires she’d ever created, Drake had been among her favorites to make and bed. With his Viking looks and strength, she loved to spend hours with him. Unfortunately, the others had turned his head, and he joined their force instead of hers. How could he forget the power he had? She would have made him king of all vampires but no, he had to leave with the others. She sped up her strokes and ignored David’s cries of pain. Confidence surged through her veins like an express train. With a little luck, if she got Drake back into the fold, the others would surely follow. **** Days passed since the incident with Drake in his office, which had left Christine bewildered and utterly confused. How could she have fallen under his spell? She had an investigation to conduct, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be conducting it on his couch. She tried doing a few things around the house like some sewing or rearranging cabinets. She even ironed, one of her least favorite chores, managing to burn her hands a few times because she didn’t pay attention. Nothing kept her occupied long enough and her mind away from the investigation. She’d begged Lou for daily updates, but every day, it was the same old thing—no new details or leads. Christine flopped down on the couch she’d fluffed four times this morning for something to do. She couldn’t sit around home and just wonder what was going on. She had to do something about the way things rolled. She stared at the coffee table. Her cell phone lay next to the small vase of fake flowers. She flicked her gaze next to the phone. A small white business card lay beside the curved plastic case. Several numbers, scrawled in familiar handwriting, dared her to call him. Christine shook her head. She was nuts if she called him. What would she say? “Thanks for nearly raping me on your couch”? She laughed. It wasn’t near rape. Actually, it would have been the first lay she had in the last few years. Ever since Jason Schubert, the ever-loving abusive bastard, left her, she’d never allowed anyone to get close. So far, she’d made Jason’s words true. “You’re poison, and no man will ever love you but me. Look at you! What man would want a


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bitch of a woman like you? Only me, sweets. God, I pity you.” A tear misted her eye, and she wiped the hated thing away. Even after all these years, Jason’s words still haunted her. As much as she tried, he never strayed far away from her thoughts, especially when it came to other men. She pushed all those wild thoughts away from her mind. No time to think about this. There was an investigation to conduct. Picking up her cell phone, she punched Drake’s number before she lost her nerve. He answered on the first ring and said in his utterly sexy voice, “Hello, beautiful detective.” His tone instantly made her knees weak and her pussy wet. “How can I help you today?” “Um, there’s something I’d like to ask you.” “You name the night and hotel, and I’ll be there.” Deep heat crept up her neck and spread over her cheeks. She clenched her thighs together, holding them tightly to stop her sex from reacting to his sultry invitation. No man ever made her this wet and aching before. “I know you think I’m calling you for sex, but I assure you that I’m not.” “Really?” He sounded dejected. “I’m hurt.” “Look, I need your help. If you can’t do it, then I’ll find someone else who can.” Drake chuckled. “Trust me, no one can help you the way I can.” “Stop with the sex stuff!” She gripped the phone hard to keep from throwing it across the room and ending the already annoying conversation. She had to keep this on a strictly professional level. “I want to go undercover in your club and find out what I can about David’s death.” “Why? I told you if I found something, I’d let you know.” “Not good enough. There are certain questions that need to be asked, and only I can ask them.” Silence greeted her. “Can I count on you or not?” “I’m thinking.” “Well, think faster. I need an answer now.” “Do you realize what sort of dangerous game you’re getting yourself into?” “I’m a cop, remember? I’ve been undercover more times than I can count. I can handle anything that comes down the pike.”


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“All right, I’ll let you come to Berserker undercover, but there’s one condition.” Her eyebrow lifted. “What’s that?” “That I protect you. If the situation becomes too dangerous, you’ll obey everything I tell you with no questions asked. Is that understood?” She wavered for a moment about his demand. “I don’t think can do that.” “Then I can’t allow you to the club undercover.” “But—” “It’s as simple as that. Take it or leave it.” “How long do I have to give you an answer?” “About thirty seconds. Once I hang up, that’s it. I never change my mind about anything.” Christine tapped her nails against the phone in a steady staccato beat. He had her trussed up like a Christmas turkey, and she didn’t have a choice. She needed to continue with the investigation. “All right, but don’t bully me or get in the way of anything.” “I knew you’d see things my way,” he said in a tone of self-confidence. “When did you want to start?” She thought hard for a moment. “What about tonight?” “Wednesday isn’t one of our busiest nights. What about Friday?” He could be onto something here. “All right. Friday night it is. What should I wear?” “Your sexiest outfit.” “I don’t have one.” “Go to the shop on Martin Boulevard called Rambling Rose and pick out anything you want. Tell them to put in on my account.” “I can’t do that. It’s a high-end store.” “So? I own it, so what’s the big deal?” She was shocked. “You own Rambling Rose?” “Uh-huh. I also own a few other shops and buildings along street as well as others a couple of blocks away.”


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“Is there anything you don’t own?” His deep laughter caressed her already-on-fire body like the smoothest ripple of silk. “Not much. Now go down there today, and I’ll call Sharon and tell her you’re coming down.” “Who’s Sharon?” “The woman who manages it for me.” “If you’re sure—” “Of course I’m sure. Don’t spare any expense at all.” “Okay then. I’ll head on down there in an hour.” “That’s my girl. See you on Friday.” A distant click and hum told her he’d hung up and would avoid anymore of her protests. Christine flipped her own phone closed and tossed it on the table. What should she do? She couldn’t ask a man she barely knew to pay for her expenses. She sat for a moment and debated. If she didn’t show up within the promised time frame, she could almost guarantee he’d be calling her to find out why she didn’t show up or, worse, find out where she lived and drag her out of her apartment. A slight giggle escaped her. He’d never find out where she lived. That was a closely guarded secret for her safety. Christine bounced of the sofa and jumped in the shower. Within a half an hour, she was in her Mustang speeding down toward Rambling Rose. She parked; walked into the elegant, upscale store; and was completely blown away. Red and gold glimmered around the walls decorated with gilt mirrors. Scarlet bunting covered the ceiling, bunched at the center to highlight the cutcrystal chandelier hanging overhead. “Hi! You must be Christine,” a well-manicured redhead called out from behind the counter. Christine couldn’t help but notice the woman’s hair had been dyed the same shade as the walls. “I’m Sharon. Mr. Haaken had called and said you’d be coming down to pick out some things.” “Drake can be very generous, almost too generous.” “Yes, Mr. Haaken is a very giving man. He’s helped out quite a few folks around here, including me.” Christine frowned at the formal use of his name. Not many people she knew referred to their bosses by their last name only. “You don’t call him Drake?”


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Sharon shook her shocking crimson head with a slow swing. “Absolutely not. None of us who work for him call him by his first name.” “His choice or yours?” Sharon shrugged her thin shoulders. “It’s an unspoken understanding. Can’t explain why, but none of us has ever felt compelled enough to call him by his first name.” She pointed to a row of dresses. “Shall we begin?” Two hours later, Christine racked up almost ten thousand dollars’ worth in charges. She picked out several dresses, shoes, bras, and panties. Sharon didn’t blink an eyelash when Christine tried on dress after dress, unable to decide between colors and varying lengths. “You know, you spent a lot less than he thought you would,” Sharon remarked while she put everything into the computer. “He thought you’d spend about twenty thousand.” Her stomach curled into a tight knot. “On second thought, let me just put this stuff back. I don’t really need this.” “Not allowed. No returns for me. Besides, Mr. Haaken told me you’re not to put anything back you’ve chosen.” A wave of uneasiness settled on Christine, and she leaned on the counter for support. She’d never spent this much on anything, much less clothing. It made her nauseated. “Look, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I’m not a kept woman by Mr. Haaken or by any man. He’s a friend who’s helping me out.” Sharon continued to put the number into the computer, not bothering to look up. “I’m not here to judge. As I’ve told you, Mr. Haaken is a very wealthy and very kind, so he spreads his wealth where he sees fit. Nothing more, nothing less.” She let out a long breath. “Finished! Did you want to take everything with you, or did you want it all sent over to your apartment?” The thought of lugging all of the stuff up multiple flights of steps didn’t’ thrill her to say the least. “I guess I’ll have them sent over.” She gave Sharon her address. “You will keep this private right? I had a problem with a stalker a few years ago, and I don’t want him showing up on my doorstep.” “Absolutely. We pride ourselves on complete customer privacy. Actually, Mr. Haaken insists on it.” “Great,” she said and shouldered her purse. “I guess I best be going.” The moment Sharon opened her red-rimmed mouth to say something, Christine’s phone rang. She picked it up and chirped a cheery, “Hello?” “Is this Christine McCall?”


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She almost screamed at the kind woman about getting her number, but she thought the better of it. Mentally, she counted to ten. “How can I help you?” “This is Pandora’s Salon and Spa confirming your appointment on Friday at three.” Christine nearly fainted. Pandora’s was the most expensive and upscale salon in Beaumont. Rumor had it that celebrities often flew in and spent a week at Pandora’s just to “get away.” She could never afford it. “I never made an appointment.” “One was made for you by the owner.” Her fingers curled around the base of the phone, tight and unyielding. Drake was at it again. “What sort of appointment?” “You’re to have a full day of beauty treatment plus hair, cut and color,” the woman informed her. She paused for a brief moment and ordered, “Cancel it.” “I’m afraid I’m not allowed.” Christine cupped her hand over the phone and muttered in a quiet voice, “I can’t afford that.” “Your expenses are all taken care of.” Christine leaned against the counter and pondered the marvelous gift Drake offered. At the same time, she didn’t want to be made to feel like a kept woman. She sighed. “Thanks. I’ll be there. Bye.” She snapped her phone shut and turned to Sharon. “Can I have everything delivered on Friday in the morning?” “Absolutely,” Sharon said and curved around the counter. She walked Christine to the door. “Don’t worry about a thing. You’re in great hands.” Christine left the store feeling a bit more bewildered than when she entered. How could a man she barely knew spend this kind of money on her? Better yet, how could she let him? **** Friday came in a rush, almost too fast for Christine’s liking. The things she’d picked out at Rambling Rose came in neat little packages, and she had to admit she had fun looking at everything again and finding spots in the closet for all her new stuff. She especially loved all the new shoes she picked out. Most of them were platform heels, some higher than others. For a long time, she’d never dressed up, preferring tennis shoes and jeans to miniskirts and heels. Even in her job, she always dressed conservatively with low heels and high necklines. Nothing she did ever called for anything beyond that.


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She put the last dress away when she looked at the time. Almost two thirty. Damn, did it take that long to put everything away? Time to get going to Pandora’s. Regret nipped at her. She shouldn’t be doing this. Drake wanted something in return. Men always did. They never did anything out of the goodness of their hearts without expecting a piece of ass in payment. She frowned. If he thought he would get her body in payment for all the things he’d bought her, he was sadly mistaken. She couldn’t be bought or sold. After her investigation was over, she’d find some way to repay Drake for everything. Picking up her purse, she headed down to Pandora’s. An equally plush establishment as Rambling Rose, Pandora’s was truly a sight to behold. Decorated in pink and white, everything looked so clean and elegant. Stylists and spa employees, both men and women, dressed in uniforms of tight white jeans and pink shirts. All wore smiles and pleasant expressions, each one tending to their customers if they were the only ones in the salon. They immediately whisked her away to the mud room where they gave her a mud treatment. Then it was on to a massage and a Dermitàge treatment. A manicure and pedicure followed, making her more relaxed than she’d been in a long while. The hairstylist suggested a great cut that tamed her unruly curls, and added a few more chestnut highlights to her hair. She looked great, especially once the makeup artist finished with her. He applied makeup that seemed barely there, much more understated than she could have done, yet it worked wonders for her face. “Bellissimo!” exclaimed Giorgio, the makeup artist. “Youa will a maka men a pant for you.” “Thank you, Giorgio. That wasn’t what I was going for,” she joked. She sat for a minute. She couldn’t let Drake take care of this as well. He’d spent ten thousand dollars on her clothes, which she shouldn’t have gotten, and he certainly didn’t need to take care of this as well. “Where do I pay?” “Ata the counter when youa camea in.” “Thanks again, Giorgio.” She slid out of the chair and made her way to the counter where a bleached blonde stood popping bubblegum and turning the pages of a Hollywood gossip magazine. “I’d like to pay please.” “Just a minute,” she snapped and attempted to finish the lie-filled article she read. Christine stood there for a few seconds before garnering the girl’s attention again. “Excuse me, but I’d like to pay because I’ve got things to do.”


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The blonde looked up, wearing an annoyed expression, and snapped, “Didn’t I just tell you’d I’d be with you in a minute?” Rage colored Christine’s vision, and mentally she counted to ten. “I don’t think you heard me. I want to pay and leave.” The receptionist’s blues eyes turned as cold as the winter snow in February, her mouth drawn tight. “Are you deaf?” The minute Christine opened her mouth to say something, the woman’s expression dropped into a mask of stark fear. What in the hell is going on? “Does there seem to be a problem here?” Drake’s stern voice drifted over her shoulder. The blonde must have seen him walking in, hence the change in her expression. “Um, no, Mr. Haaken. The lady just wants to pay her bill.” “She has none.” His voice deepened into a dangerous tone conveying a subtle warning. “I heard how you were treating her when I walked up. Did you forget there’s a policy against treating my customers rudely?” Fear radiated in the blonde’s blue eyes as she muttered in a low tone, “No, I haven’t, Mr. Haaken.” He spread his hands out on the counter and bent from his waist, glowering at her. “Consider this your one warning. If I ever catch you treating one of my customers, this woman in particular, in a curt, rude manner again, I’ll fire you without warning and severance. Do I make myself clear?” The blonde nodded and wiped away her running tears. Mascara pooled beneath her eyes, forming black spider like puddles. “Yes, sir. You’ve given me a good opportunity, and I’m not going to waste it.” “Do you promise?” Christine noticed the blonde’s hands shaking like leaves before a storm. “I promise.” He stood to his full height and chucked the blonde under the chin. “Good. Now get back to work. Remember what I said.” Drake spun around to face Christine. The black mask of rage disappeared, replaced by a sexy killer smile. “Shall we go?” “What are you doing here?” “I thought I’d come down and make sure my employees treated you well.”


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She scowled and snapped, “You don’t need to check up on me if that’s what you mean.” His gaze swept up and down her body like a gentle caress as he licked his lips. “I’m not checking up on you, though I must say you look good enough to eat right now.” Flutters of pulsing desire coursed up and down her spine at the thought of this man’s head buried between her thighs, lapping at the juice of her sex like a thirsty man finding water in the desert. “Thanks for the compliment, but I really must be going.” “How about lunch?” “Not hungry.” “How about dinner?” She looked at him. “You never quit, do you?” “Never. Come with me. We’ll go somewhere and discuss the plans for tonight.”

Chapter Four The tight red sheath dress Christine slipped into for the first night of her undercover work fit her like a second skin. She’d spotted the garment first thing when she stepped inside Rambling Rose. Immediately, she fell in love with it, but that lust quickly turned to disappointment when she noticed the price tag. Two thousand dollars. She’d put the dress back, but Sharon had deftly picked it up and put it behind the counter and told her to look for more things. She’d reiterated Mr. Haaken said spare no expense. Christine slipped her feet into a pair of three inch blood red platform heels. She looked at herself in the mirror and twirled to see if everything was in place. For a brief moment, she considered herself hot—it didn’t last long. Jason’s haunting words took care of that swiftly enough. “You have an ugly body,” he’d taunted her. “No man is going to want you.” She often asked him why he was with her then. “Because you need me, and I feel sorry for you because no one else wants you, including your mother.” A lonely tear sprang to her eye, but she held back. What Jason had said was true. Mom kicked her out on her sixteenth birthday and told her to have a nice life—all because she’d refused to prostitute herself out to earn Mom crack money. Thankfully, she’d been smart enough to find a shelter and finish school and go to college. Mom tracked her down through the years via various ways, including even showing up in at the police station strung out on crack. Mom ranted and raved about Christine not taking care of her in her old age and about how ungrateful of a child Christine was. She tried to calm Mom down, but the junkie wouldn’t have any of it. In order to get rid of the woman who gave birth to her, Christine had been forced to


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give her mother what little money she had. Mom practically skipped out of the police station, probably to go get another rock or two of crack. The next day, she took out a restraining order against her junkie parent. Christine shook her newly cut hair and stared at her makeup a bit more. She wished with all her heart she could see herself as beautiful, but she couldn’t. Jason’s lingering effects kept her from doing so. She sighed and looked at her bedside clock. Nearly nine o’clock. She was supposed to be there at eight, but she held back. Why, she didn’t know. No use in putting off the inevitable. **** Christine pulled her Mustang to a stop at the curb. Curiously, the same young man who’d parked her car previously stood shivering in the cold with his hands jammed into the pockets of his black leather jacket, his breath dancing in the night air She got out and let him slide behind the wheel. “I guess Mr. Haaken told you I was coming.” “Yup,” the man said and slammed her door. “He wants me to stick close to you, so when you’re ready, I can get your car.” “No need for that.” He chuckled slightly as he shifted the car into drive. “Got my orders, ma’am. Hafta follow ’em to a T.” Christine stepped back and allowed him to take her Mustang away to park. She shook against the cold, her red silk wrap no better at keeping out the cold than a piece of plastic wrap. Her chest tightened. She was afraid and shouldn’t be. Why? She’d been in much tighter spots than this and hadn’t been this worried. After all, she’d taken down bigger guys than Drake, though she’d had to admit none of them had been as hot and sexy. Christine closed her eyes for a moment. She knew why. Because of him. Drake Haaken had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met and the problem was he knew it. She couldn’t deny the hot, animalistic attraction she felt for him, a desire that could possibly jeopardize her investigation. Despite the call of her body, she needed to keep a clear head about this. Drake could have his pick of any hot chick here, so he wasn’t interested in her beyond a one-night stand. She wasn’t up to being a stop gap. Christine turned around. Scores of people hovered near the entrance waiting for their turn to go inside. Some dressed very conservatively while others wore outlandish costumes with the


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vain hopes they’d be the ones picked. Despite her trepidation and the hammer of her heart, Christine strode up to the doorman with a confident grace. This man was new, dressed in a nice pair of tan slacks, a white shirt, and a petulant scowl. His bald head gleamed like a piece of chrome underneath the street light. “Mr. Haaken is expecting me.” “Get in line, lady, like the rest of us!” a man shouted from the throng bustling to get in, the pushing and shoving steadily growing. The tall doorman glowered down from his perch. He smiled, his teeth very white. “Mr. Haaken didn’t leave no word about anyone wanting ta see him. I’m sorry, lady, but you’ll have to get in line.” Christine tucked her clutch with the thin chain under her bare arm and remained staunch. She wasn’t going anywhere, and she wanted him to know that. “But wait a minute, he’s expecting me.” He jumped down from his perch with a thump and landed his towering form in front of her, his arms crossed. “Look here, lady. I told ya to get in line like everyone else. Are you deaf?” Christine shifted. She couldn’t exactly whip out her badge and show him why she was here. “Never mind. I’ll call him—” “What were you going to call me, my love?” She whirled around and came face to face with Drake’s chest, and she nearly swallowed a mouthful of his silky hair. “Um, your doorman doesn’t know I’m supposed to see you tonight.” She couldn’t help noticing he wore tight black jeans and the boots with the silver tips. A longsleeve, red silk shirt completed his ensemble. He’d drawn his hair back from his temples and clipped it in the back. She shivered the moment his sensually erotic cologne drifted over to her. Tonight he wore something softer, not his usual musky scent. Drake glared at his offending employee, his thick arms crossed over his massive chest. “I heard the way you talked to my woman. I’ll not tolerate that.” At his words, a surge of rigidity stormed through her, tensing every muscle. She’d never been called someone’s woman before, and she couldn’t be sure how to feel. Jason always referred to her as the old ball and chain to his friends though they’d never been married. Or he’d call her his old lady but never his woman. “I’m sorry, Mr. Haaken. Won’t happen again,” the doorman said and jumped back to his stand with the quickness of a cat pouncing on prey. “Nobody told me she was coming.” “In the future, you’ll treat her with as much respect as you treat me. Understood?”


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“Yes, Mr. Haaken.” “Now get back to work.” Drake slid his thick arm around her bared shoulders and guided her back toward the brilliantly lit entrance. Dimly, she heard the doorman say, “Must be flavor of the day.” She cringed. She didn’t want to be considered Drake’s girlfriend or mistress, but under the circumstances, it might not be a bad idea. “Ignore the asshole,” Drake whispered in her ear and then flicked at curve with his tongue. Her nipples tingled beneath her padded bra, which sent a strange quiver down to her sex. “Come with me. There are some friends I want you to meet.” With that, Drake removed his arm from her shoulders. He grasped her hand and guided her through the crowded bar. Music blared from the well-hidden speakers, accompanied by the pulsing strobe lights. People crowded on the dance floor swaying to the techno beats. He pushed through the thick throng of bodies to a round booth in the back already crowded with people. She noticed five gorgeous women sitting there with equally exotic-looking men. She stopped for a second, staring at them all. Drake halted his long legged stride and spun around. His icy gray eyes narrowed in concern and he said, “What’s wrong?” Christine shook off her grip of uneasiness as easily as one removed a coat. “Nothing. Let’s go meet your friends.” Drake started to make his way to the darkened recess of the bar and headed toward the richly padded round booth. Just enough room existed for them. He gestured for her to take a seat then he slid in beside her like an anchor, as if to keep her from going anywhere. “I’d like to introduce you to my friends,” Drake announced over the crowd. “This is Raphael and Liz.” She shook hands with the devilishly handsome dark-haired man and his equally beautiful wife. “Pleased to meet you both.” Liz gave her a comforting smile and extended her hand, saying, “We’re charmed as well.” “Nicholas and Tatiana are next up.” The sleek, silver-blonde beauty stuck her hand out. “Very glad to meet you,” Tatiana said, her voice tinged with a Russian accent Nicholas picked up Christine’s hand and kissed the back of it with elegant European flair.


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“Charmed as well.” Drake leaned over to her. “The dark-haired one is Alexandra, and she’s a handful.” “I am not, you ass!” Alexandra claimed in a joking tone and punched Drake’s arm playfully. “Don’t let him kid you. I’m a bit of a pervert, but I’m okay.” “Yeah, right,” he said rubbing his arm. “The redhead is Gabrielle.” His flame haired friend grabbed Christine’s hand before she could extend it and pumped vigorously, offering her sentiments in a deeply French accented voice, “Enchanté. Nice to meet you.” Drake smiled, directing her gaze to the last woman. “The last is Siobhan.” “Very glad to meet you,” said the slender blonde Siobhan with the dazzling green eyes. Christine let go of her trepidations with an exhale of a soft breath. “Glad to meet all of you.” Drake leaned in close, his mouth temptingly close to her ear. A flutter of anticipation stirred in her belly, threatening to spread out to the rest of her body. “These are my closest and dearest friends, love.” “That’s wonderful,” she said in a strangled voice, her attention darting everywhere else to keep her mind off Drake’s deeply sexual attraction. “Can I talk to you privately?” One of Drake’s eyebrows lifted mischievously with a quick jerk. “See? I told you she couldn’t wait to have me alone.” Christine cringed when he said that. She was getting a little sick of his sexual innuendo, at least in front of other people. When they were alone, she could handle him. “Is it okay if we go to your office?” Drake slid out of the booth and offered a hand. She slid her hand in his, her fingers curling around his broad palm. He nodded to the others. “We’ll be right back.” Drake strode to his office with a confident air, her hand in his. She kept up with his long-legged stride despite the hammering of her heart. Her flesh pulsed with strange tingles of desire every time he touched her, every cell crying out for more of him. She shouldn’t and couldn’t harbor these feelings for him. He was merely a means to an end—or was he? He opened the door to his office and ushered her inside. “Have a seat.” Christine walked over to the couch where they’d spent a bit of passionate time and sat down, crossing her legs demurely. “We need to set up some ground rules here.” “I agree.” He slammed the door and threw the lock over to the right.


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Terror instantly gripped her, but she tamped down the emotions with a bit of silent meditation. Just because he had locked the door didn’t mean he was going to do something against her will. Besides, she was a cop and could take his ass down if need be. She relaxed slightly. “Why are you locking the door?” “I want to keep any interruptions at bay.” Drake walked across the room with a slow, sexy stride and joined her on the couch. “What were you saying?” His closeness and sensual smelling cologne overwhelmed her. “Um, I was saying we need to set some ground rules.” A thick lump of anticipation formed in her throat, and she closed her eyes against the barrage on her senses. “Yes, ground rules,” he murmured softly and scooted closer to her on the couch. Leather creaked, breaking the veil of her hitching breath. “Is there any reason we need those?” “Yeah—we do.” Christine could barely breathe as Drake’s chilly fingertips swept over her bare shoulder and turned her around to face him. “This can’t go on.” He brushed a soft kiss her cheek and then moved to nibble behind her left ear. “Why do we need such things?” She relaxed into his touch and caress, her sex clenching and aching to be stretched and filled. Gooseflesh broke out wherever his skin met hers, the tingles of anticipation getting far beyond her control. “Everyone needs them,” she murmured, only dimly aware of his tender nibbling of her exposed shoulder. “Not me.” Before she could say anymore, Drake captured her lips in a hungry kiss, full of passion and blazing with desire. She answered his urgency with her own, winding her arms around his neck and drawing him closer. **** Drake touched her inner thigh for a minute and waited for her reaction. He expected her to push him away, but she didn’t. Taking her silence as an invitation, he swept higher up the soft, smooth expanse. Surely, she would make him stop before he went too far. She didn’t. Damn, she made his cock hard! He went a bit farther and touched the damp crotch of her panties. With his superior senses, he could smell her desire for him, her body pumping out the delicious juice needed to clear the way for him. He paused at the tight elastic. Still, she didn’t stop him. Good. His prize lay behind the brief expanse of wet fabric.


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Hooking one finger through the elastic of her panties, he had them off in a flourish and casually dropped them to the floor. Christine didn’t balk at this either. Drake slid his hand back up her thigh. Her shaved pussy greeted him like a beacon, soft, smooth, and soaked. He touched the quivering lips and Christine gasped, her hips rocking. He touched her delicious smelling sex, drawing a finger up the damp crevice. Flesh parted, slick and ready. “Yes,” she moaned against his mouth and lifted her hips. “Touch me.” He’d do better than that. He slipped on finger inside of her. Instantly, her cunt slammed down on his finger and held it hostage. He groaned and tucked another finger next to the first one. She widened instantly and sucked him deeply inside. Unable to stand the resistance, he stroked in and out, pumping like a piston. She creamed against his fingers as he thrust. “Faster,” she begged in a strangled moan. Never one to shirk a request, he increased his actions. Christine lifted her hips, begging for more. Well, he had something special in mind for her. Slipping to the floor, he urged onto her back on the couch. He hooked her right leg over his shoulder, the left on the back of the couch. Her desire drifted from between her legs, peppered with a musky, wanton scent. His cock was rock hard, but after several hundred years, he’d learn to control himself. **** Christine felt so desired and wanted in this moment that she wanted it to last. Drake had been so tender with her and seemed so compassionate that it didn’t feel wrong to be here with him like this. The rough pad of Drake’s tongue traced up and down both sides of her labia, lapping up all her juice. His giant thumbs held her open, exposing her for his use. Strangely, she liked this situation. Jason had never performed oral sex on her, and he never wanted her to. He said she was lousy at it. Drake blew a cold breath over her clit, and the blossom stood at attention, swelling not just with blood but lust as well. She shivered and lifted her hips, offering more. “What a wanton wench you are.” He chuckled softly and covered her pussy with his mouth. His tongue danced up and down her sex, tasting her dew. He nibbled a bit on her clit, taking the nub gently between his teeth then let go. Flick. Suck. Flick. Suck. She shuddered as the familiar burn of orgasm curled in her belly. Dear Lord, she was ready to come!


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Drake caressed her clit with his tongue, the roughness enough to send her to the moon. Her cunt convulsed with each suck and release of her nub. She teetered on the precipice of complete and utter submission, and she didn’t care if she tumbled downward. No man had ever made her come like this before—only her hand or a vibrator did. The burn turned to a full, roaring flame. Fire licked up her limbs and spread with the quickness of a harsh summer storm. She cried out as her orgasm blew. Drake tenderly kissed the inside of her thigh. “You were saying something about ground rules?” Christine panted hard. The effects of her orgasm circulated around her body, making it hard for her to speak. What in the hell did she just do? Give liberties to a man she found attractive? She should have known better. She was here to investigate David’s murder, not to lie here with her legs spread so man she barely knew could lick the daylights out of her pussy. The moment she regained her senses, she swung her legs over the correct side of the couch. She ran her hands through her hair and looked into his smoldering eyes. “One of the ground rules is that this never happens again.” Drake slipped a hand over her knee. “It’s a pity because you have a delightfully tasting pussy.” “Please stop with the sexual innuendo!” “I like it.” He slipped his hand down to her thigh, threatening to come up and caress her again. “Apparently you do, too.” She stood on weak knees, her purse under her arm. Her body continued to rumble with the aftereffects of the orgasm, making her resolve utterly weak at the moment. “I’ve had enough. I think I’d do better conducting the investigation on my own than with your help.” Drake pushed himself from the floor and rose to his full height, towering over her. “I don’t think so. You’ll need my help.” “If this is the kind of help you’re offering, forget it.” She stalked to the door and threw the lock over. Without another word, she exited. Time to work the club. **** Drake watched her leave. He’d given her a slice of heaven she’d never had. Like a drunk taking his first drink after a long sobriety, she’d be back for more. A flask of red on the floor caught his attention. He bent down and picked up the panties he’d carefully removed from Christine. She’d drenched the material with her perfume, a scent he could enjoy forever. He strode over to his desk and opened his secret drawer. He threw them inside. Those he’d save for later.


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Drake left his office with a whistle on his lips. Christine was his whether she knew it or not. **** Christine surveyed the club from the bar, trying to decide who to talk to. She noticed Drake had returned to his friends and engaged in a jovial conversation by the way everyone was laughing. She turned away. She would have loved to have close friends, but that wasn’t her lot in life. People couldn’t be trusted enough to be called friends or even lovers. David had been the one exception to the rule. At the thought of him, she turned to look at the dance floor. People gyrated in all sorts of strange ways, some having no sense of rhythm at all. She smiled. They looked as though they were having some type of seizure but didn’t seem to care if anyone watched. Oh, to have that type of freedom! Without warning, the crowd parted and she caught a flash of familiar dark hair. She narrowed her eyes on those locks. Who was that? Dancers moved in a strange circle again, parting a bit more to give her a better glimpse into the middle. Suddenly, she saw someone she longed for. David was dancing with a young redhead near the center, their bodies writhing to the strange beats of the music blasting from the speakers. Christine rubbed her eyes, completely forgetting about her makeup. No, it couldn’t be! She spun around and stared at the neat granite top of the bar, her heaving breath returning. It couldn’t be David because she’d scattered his ashes at sea weeks before. You’re just missing him, her mind concluded. That’s why you think you see him. Christine resumed her former position only to find herself locked in a heated stare with David from the middle of the club. His hair had lost its familiar luster, seemingly dull and lifeless against the contours of his head. Black eyeliner rimmed his eyes, giving him a very haunted look He wore tight black leather pants and motorcycle boots. A white shirt covered his upper torso. She closed her eyes, banishing the very sight of him. It couldn’t be David because Mr. Conservative wouldn’t have worn anything like that. The crowd seemed oblivious to David standing in the middle of the dance floor with legs splayed and hands crossed in front of him. His voice echoed through the chaotic thoughts tumbling through her mind. “Come to me, Christine. Follow me” Christine shook her head. No, this wasn’t possible. She ran for the bathroom and hid in the first stall, the terrible urge to urinate overwhelming her. Lifting her dress, she discovered her


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panties missing. Damn, they were in Drake’s office! Shit! How could she go back there and ask him for them back? She pounded her thigh. Great, now what was she going to do? Once she finished, she exited the stall more calmly than she had gone in. She washed her hands in the sink with a quick soapy twist under the hot water. Then she turned on the cold tap and splashed her face a bit. The scene with Drake really sent her mind spinning. If she were careful, that scene would never replay, if she could help it. The door to the bathroom swung open, and the next woman came in. Christine stared at the mirror in front of her and noticed the club with each time the door moved. On the last swing, the door revealed something else. Christine saw with horror David’s face beyond the door, watching her as if waiting for her to come out. She froze. He was just a figment of her imagination, nothing more. She wasn’t going to be afraid or squeamish—wasn’t her nature. Standing tall, she slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and walked out. The David look-alike walked away from her, weaving through the crowd. Her temples pounded, and her breath hitched. Was it David she was seeing? She couldn’t be absolutely sure until she stood toe to toe with him. Christine shoved her way through the swaying forms in an attempt to follow him. She called out, “David!” He ignored her and moved away, keeping just far enough out of her reach. “Stop, David! I want to talk to you!” The figure stopped in his tracks and squared his shoulders like he needed to compose himself before facing her. Steady beats of the techno music faded slowly into the background and the chatter of the dancers died away, leaving only her and the man to face each other. The man turned slowly and faced her. Dear God, it was David! “How in the world?” His black-rimmed eyes narrowed, and he said in a chillingly controlled tone, “I told you I’d come back, Christine. I’ve come for you.” “This can’t be,” she stammered. “You’re dead.” “Yes, I am.” His familiar mouth spread into a manic grin. “I want you with me—always.” She shuddered with unexpected fright. “This isn’t real. I’ve either had too much to drink or I’m dreaming.”


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“You haven’t touched a drop of alcohol, and you’re not dreaming,” David offered. “I’m just as real as you are.” He grabbed her and pulled her close. The smell of earth, mold, and death overwhelmed her senses. Bile curled at the base of her stomach and threatened to erupt any moment. The iciness of his hands, not to mention his foul breath, fed her fear and fright. “What’s wrong with you? You’re ice cold?” “That’s because my heart hasn’t beat since the day I died.” Christine wrested herself out of his grip and attempted to flee. This wasn’t possible! Get a hold of yourself, McCall. This is all in your imagination. Never one to believe in ghosts, she was positive that one stood before her at the moment. David halted her flight and dragged her back to the center of the dance floor. He held her tight in his cold death grip and drew her close, telling her with an evil tone, “You’re going to stay with me, Christine. You’ll be mine forever.” He opened his mouth to reveal two sharp canines descending from his upper jaw, wet and lethal looking. Drops of saliva dripped from his mouth to her skin, burning slightly where it fell. “What—what are you?” “A vampire who wants you,” he snapped and lowered his head toward her neck. “And I intend to have you.” Suddenly, her knees weakened and her legs collapsed. She felt herself falling to the floor and nothing else after that. Someone help me! **** A wild cry inside of Drake’s head summoned him toward the dance floor, and he sped there without haste. Rage consumed him the minute he saw Zakara’s creature hovering over Christine’s limp form ready to suck the life from her body. He grabbed the creature from the back of his shirt and threw the dead cop aside. David hit the wall and fell to the floor in a heap but didn’t stay there long. With superhuman speed, he was on Drake in a second, his fits flying in all directions. “Get away from her, she’s mine,” David said with a low growl. Drake looked up from his position next to Christine on the floor. He’d checked her out, and it seemed she merely fainted nothing more. Thankfully, his patrons saw nothing, for David used his power to glamour everyone around them. Drake rose in a controlled motion, his fists clenched at his sides. He leaned down to Zakara’s new minion. “I’ve marked her, boy, and she belongs to me. I’m free to kill any vampire who


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tries to take what belongs to me.” “You can’t kill me.” He lifted a blonde brow. “Want to try me? As I’ve told you before, I’m much older and stronger than you, so it won’t be an equal match. I thought Zakara would have taught you a few things before she let you off the leash.” “She has and will make me her vampire king soon.” He laughed and waved a dismissive hand in front of the little idiot. In time, the dead cop would learn. Right now, the little asshole had a lesson coming to him. “Do you know how many men, myself included, she’s dangled that title in front of? You’re just another in a long line of playthings, that’s all. Now run back to your maker before I really get angry.” David launched himself on Drake, but he was ready. Punches flew around his head, but he felt nothing. The man wasn’t as strong as he was. He gripped David by the throat and held the man aloft, his fingers digging into the lifeless neck. He shook his foe quite heavily. “You must really want to die, boy. If I ever catch you around my woman again, you’ll pay with your life. Do you understand me?” With a scratchy hiss, David disappeared from his fingertips in a swirl of black mist. He lowered his hand. Thankfully, his foe was gone for the moment, but when would the bastard return again? Not too soon, he hoped. If he killed another minion of Zakara’s, she’d be down on him like a lion down on prey. His biggest fear was not being able to defeat her when the time came. He looked down at Christine. She seemed so helpless, fragile and so alone. His still heart went out to her. She honestly reminded him of Dagmar—tough on the outside but soft as butter on the inside. Drake bent and scooped her off the dance floor and carried her out the door. The best place for her was his house for now. There she could rest, and he could privately glamour her into thinking everything had been nothing more than her imagination.

Chapter Five “Hey, wake up sleeping beauty.” Drake’s voice broke through the hazy veil of unconsciousness and dragged her to reality. She opened her eyes and blinked hard in an effort to discern where she was. She lay in some sort of masculine bedroom decorated with dark colors and strange objects covering the walls. No lights were on and made it fairly difficult to see much of anything. “Where am I?”


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She looked over to her right. Silhouetted, he sat next to her on the bed, his hand covering hers. “My house—actually my bedroom.” Christine jerked into a protective sitting position, ready to bring him to his knees should he try anything. “What the hell? How did I get here?” “I brought you here. You fainted in the club.” She blinked hard a few more times to push the haziness from her mind. “Thank you.” She sat silent for a moment. “Why did you bring me here?” “I wanted to take care of you and make sure you’re all right.” He touched her shoulder with a comforting caress. “Do you know why you fainted?” She drew a deep breath to calm her erratic nerves and started her story in a ragged tone. “I—I thought saw David in your club. I followed the guy to the dance floor and—” She swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “It was David.” Her chest constricted as she fought back the tears threatening to erupt. “I swear he’s dead. I scattered his ashes in the ocean weeks ago.” “Maybe you just thought you saw him.” She spun around, her anger flaring at his insinuation that she was crazy. “I did see him!” “I think you saw what you wanted to see.” “Don’t tell me what I saw!” She pushed her legs over the side only to notice carpet fibers against the naked soles of her feet. “Where are my shoes?” Drake rose from the bed to give her some room to move, carefully stepping back as if to avoid touching her. “I took them off so you’d be more comfortable.” Christine rocked on the bed. This evening had gotten entirely out of control, starting with the little scene in Drake’s office and ending with her sighting of David. How in the hell did she let all this happen? “Just give them to me so I can leave.” “Not yet. You’re scared, and I’m not letting you leave until you’ve calmed down.” “I’m not scared! I just need to leave.” She was on the verge of a crying jag, and she needed to get out of her before it came on. Tears were a sign of weakness to her, and to shed them in front of anyone else committed a cardinal sin for her. Drake drew her into the strong circle of his arms and held tightly, his wide palm against the flat of her back stroking gently. “Not yet. You’re too frightened and upset to leave. Let me take care of you.” His kind, compassionate words were enough to bring on the tears. “Please—let—me go,” she


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begged and pounded against his thick chest, but it didn’t do any good. He only tightened his hold. “I want to go home.” “Shh, just let it all out,” he murmured and stroked her errant curls with a gentle hand. “I’m taking care of you tonight, so let it all pour out.” She relaxed into his hard form, her tears soaking his silk shirt. He didn’t seem to care as he held her there, rocking gently. “Tell me all about it,” he asked. Strangely, the feeling of comfort and protectiveness washed over her, and she felt okay to talk to him. “I miss David so much it’s unbelievable.” “I know. There’re people in my life who aren’t here anymore who I miss terribly as well. It will get easier with time.” Her throat and head ached from all the crying. “It won’t. I feel so awful.” Drake kissed the top of her head. “It’ll be okay, I swear.” He lifted her face up to meet his intense gaze. “Let me take care of you tonight.” “I don’t want sex.” Even in the dark, she could see the traces of a kind smile crossing his lips. “I wouldn’t dream of it, though I think it’s best you stay here tonight.” She shook her head. Even thought she trusted him slightly, staying the night wouldn’t be the best thing for her. The fragile vulnerability might lead her into doing something she’d regret. “I don’t think so.” “I won’t take no for an answer.” C’mon, McCall, think of another reason to leave. “But I don’t have a thing to wear to bed.” Drake rubbed her bared shoulders and said with a smile, “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got plenty for you to wear.” Christine watched Drake go to a neat walnut door to the right of the bed. Curious to where it led, she followed. The huge cherry wood closet was the size of her entire apartment and then some. Racks and racks of shirts and pants hung everywhere, all organized by color and style. Men’s shoes, boots, and other footwear rested in their neatly carpeted incline shelves. “This is nothing compared to where I grew up in Norway. My entire family lived in a great hall much smaller than this.” His statement shook her. “Great hall?”


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Quick surprise trawled across his features, only to be replaced by a relaxed smile. “Sorry about that. It was a small house, but we called it the Great Hall.” Christine thought about his misplaced statement but brushed it aside. Simple slip of the tongue, nothing more. Sometimes her suspicious nature got the best of her. “Oh, okay.” She touched some of the shirts. “I’ve never known any guy to have this much clothing.” “Trust me, I wear everything here,” he offered mildly and continued to rummage around the racks. “Ah, here’s a shirt you can wear.” The shirt he’d picked out was a blue silk number that probably cost a thousand dollars. She shook her head and pushed it back. “An old T-shirt would be okay, you know.” “Sorry, nothing but the best for you.” He handed her the shirt. “Time to get dressed for bed. I’ll leave you alone to dress privately.” One question remained on her mind, one she need to ask and had to have answer to. “Where are you going to sleep?” The familiar sexy smile reemerged and energized the blaze in his eyes. “Next to you, of course.” She held every raw emotion intact. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I barely know you.” “If you’re worried about your sanctity, don’t. I never take advantage of anyone—unless you want me to of course.” Her pussy clenched as the memory of his lips wrapped around her clit rose like a thief in the night. “Um, I don’t think so.” Drake leaned forward, his eyes full of seriousness, and said in a raw sexual tone, “Make no mistake, my girl. I’ll have you eventually, but it’ll be when you’re ready. I’ll not push you.” He swatted her playfully on the ass. “Bedtime in five minutes. Be dressed or I’ll come in and dress you myself.” With that, Drake left her alone in his huge closet to change into the pretty silk shirt he’d given her. She sighed and walked over to the vanity mirror in the corner. Ugh. She looked a hot mess with mascara pooling around her eyes like a couple of dead spiders. Damn, she needed a shower. Christine popped open the closet door and emitted a soft gasp. Drake startled her by stretching out on the bed naked from the waist up, his hands behind his head. She held her breath as she visually caressed each muscled plane graced with bits of silver moonlight streaming through the window, the skin flickering now and then with slight movement. She could see herself kissing and touching every inch of him…


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Drake slewed his head over to face her. “Something wrong?” Christine managed to regain her composure and cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m sort of a hot mess right now, and I was wondering if it was okay if I took a shower before I went to bed?” “Sure. There’s plenty of towels, shampoo, soap. Whatever you need is there. I’ll be right here.” “Thanks. Where’s your bathroom?” “Go straight through my closet and there’s a door in the back. That’s the bathroom.” “Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.” **** A soft click echoed in the air as the door closed. Drake smiled. He didn’t even have to glamour her to stay, which he thought he would have. It seemed that all he needed to do was convince her that she hadn’t seen David, and she had believed him. He liked a woman who trusted him to a certain degree He crossed his ankles. The sound of the taps being turned on echoed through the bedroom. His cock hardened and lengthened, pressing against the metal zipper of his jeans, tight and painful. She tempted him to strip his clothes off and join her. Thankfully, his better senses prevailed. He needed to take it easy with her. Her trust in him was at a fragile point, and he didn’t want to shatter that. Drake stared at the ceiling. Why did he care so much about this woman? Somehow, this little minx brought out the caring, protective beast in him. When that had happened, he wasn’t sure. Strangely, he couldn’t be sure if he wanted to put the animal to sleep again. It felt good to feel needed and wanted by someone other than the rest of his coven. Christine’s distant singing intrigued him, the sounds very pleasant. She had a good voice. Did she ever think to have training to use it? Hmm, something else to investigate about her. He smiled. She definitely intrigued him like a box full of secrets he wanted to learn, one at a time. She never failed to amaze him. The sound of the water died away, and he desperately fought the urge to go and see if she needed help getting dressed. His midsection strained at the mere thought of her luscious naked body pressed up against his, ripe and ready for the taking. Never in his life had a woman blossomed under his fingertips like Christine. Not even Dagmar exploded in that fashion. He yawned. Dawn was coming soon, and unfortunately, he couldn’t spend the entire night with Christine. He’d have to be in his coffin by sunrise, not because of the sun but because it had become habit more than anything and because he’d grown to prefer sleeping during the day when possible. Thankfully, he kept his coffin and some for the others in the bowels of the house.


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The closet door opened again. Christine emerged in the blue silk shirt he’d picked out for her. She had buttoned the garment up all the way, but since it had been made for him, the buttons ended right below her breasts. With each movement, he caught the generous curve of breast. He grimaced as his pain increased. Drake sighed. Time to drum up some images to make his closest friend and ally relax—for now. Pushing off the bed, Drake stretched and announced, “Time for bed.” Christine eyed him cautiously all the while trying to keep the edges of the shirt together with nervous fingers. “You swear you won’t take advantage of me?” He crossed his still heart. “I promise.” “Okay.” Christine peeled back the covers and slid in. “Are you sure there isn’t somewhere else I can sleep?” “Nope. This is the safest place where I can keep an eye on you.” She rolled over so her back faced him. “Good night.” Drake laughed slightly. She was about to get a really big surprise in a minute. Slumping onto the bed, he took off his boots and set them aside. Standing up, he unbuttoned his jeans and let them drop to the floor. A smile crossed his lips. He supposed he should have told her that he didn’t care for underwear at all. He lifted the covers and got into bed beside her. Christine remained still, her back to him. He stared at her for a moment, watching the movement of her body as she breathed. He couldn’t resist. It had been too long. **** Christine stiffened as Drake curled up behind her, spooning her. He wore nothing at all, his chilly skin pressing against her. She shouldn’t be here at all, not with him naked in bed or at any time. She needed to keep her head in the investigation. His thick arm slid around her waist. “Feeling better?” “I suppose so,” was all she could say. Fright and temptation tumbled inside of her, making for a confusing mix of emotion. Her head pounded as doubts about everything surged through. Drake touched her hair for a brief moment and then slid his hands through her damp tendrils. Tenderly, he massaged her scalp, something she’d always enjoyed. “Does that feel good?” “Yes.”


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“I’ll do it until you fall asleep.” The sudden urge to face him overcame her, and she turned. “Thank you for everything you’re doing for me. I know you don’t know me, but you’ve been very generous and kind.” “I’m tempting you.” “Tempting me with what?” “To see what being in my bed is like.” Christine reached out and brushed a lock of golden hair away from his forehead. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not a one-night stand or even a stopgap. You’ll get bored with me inside of five minutes, and your eye will be somewhere else.” His brow lifted in a curious quirk. “What makes you say that?” “Experience. I know that men don’t want me for very long and pity me so that’s why they go out with me.” He lifted her chin. “Who told you that?” “Does it matter?” “Yes it does.” Tears threatened again, but she refused to shed them. She didn’t want another meltdown in front of him. “I really don’t want to talk about this.” “You have to.” “No, I don’t.” She feigned a yawn to throw him off the track of her thoughts. “Please don’t ask any more of me.” Part of her wanted to share every emotion and feeling inside, but the hideous monster inside kept a stranglehold on everything. “All right, you have this one reprieve tonight, but from now on, we’ll talk about everything. It’s time for sleep, little girl.” “But—” Drake touched her on the nose. “No buts. Time for sleep, and I’m going to make sure you get some—sleep, that is.” His fingers returned to her scalp and resumed the blissful massage. Within moment, she sank into blessed nothingness. ****


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The crowd at Berserker swayed to the music on the dance floor, the beat heady and rhythmic. Light pulsated with every tone almost like a heartbeat. Christine wove her way through the throng of sweaty bodies on the dance floor. She was positive that, from her spot at the bar, she saw David from across the room. A flash of white crossed her line of vision as well as the distinct bounce of David’s hair as he hurried away from her. “Stop, David! I can’t keep up with you.” The techno sound blaring from the hidden speakers drowned her voice in a din of noise. How in the hell was she supposed to reach him when he moved so fast? “David!” she shouted again, hoping he’d hear her this time. Apparently, he did. He stopped his flight and stood with his back to her. She reached him quickly and touched him on the shoulder. He felt cold against her fingertips, the smell of earth and death surrounding him like shroud. David squared his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for you, Christine.” “How can this be? You’re dead.” “Precisely.” “Then how can you be here?” “I’m more alive than you think.” David spun around slowly to face her. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Not even a breath. His skin darkened, and his face elongated almost to that of a snake or bat. Razor-sharp teeth, wet and shiny, extended from his mouth. “Be with me forever, Christine.” David grabbed her in an icy hold and pulled her closer. Her heart hammered in her chest and threatened to explode right through. She shook her head. He lowered his head to the area of her neck. Dear God, he was going to kill her! “Wake up, Christine.” What the hell? Who was telling her to wake up? Someone shook her gently and dragged her from the hellish nightmare. “Wake up.” Christine opened her eyes and blinked hard in an effort to discern her surroundings. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized she was still in Drake’s bedroom. He was the one


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who woke her. “What happened?” His strong arm circled her shoulders and drew her close to his comforting form. “You were having a doozy of a dream. Wanna tell me about it?” She swallowed back the sobs threatening to erupt and curved herself against his well formed but slightly chilly body. “I dreamed about David—that he was some sort of hideous monster about to kill me.” Drake touched her hair softly and moved her head so that she lay on his chest. She didn’t know why, but she felt so comfortable to do this, as though nothing could hurt her while she was with him. Sometimes, she could do with letting someone else take control for a while. “It was just a dream, my dear. Nothing more. You’ll be fine right here. Nothing will hurt you while I’m around.” She yawned. She kept meaning to ask him why his skin was so icy, but now just didn’t seem the right time. She reminded herself to ask later. “Thank you for everything again. You’ve been the best.” “You deserve the best,” he said and stroked her hair. “Now go back to sleep.” “What if the dream comes back?” “It won’t with me here.” “All right.” Like a child, she believed him and closed her eyes. She definitely needed the sleep. **** The sharp ring of her cell phone dragged her from the blissful sleep she’d found in Drake’s arms. She scrambled from the bed and ran around the room searching for her purse. She found the bag leaning in a chair. Opening the flap up, she found her phone. “Hello?” “How are you doing?” Lou Carpenter inquired distantly. She ran a hand through her tangled locks, grimacing at the painful snarls caught in her fingers. Thank God no one could see her now. She was a complete and utter mess. “Okay, I guess. What’s up?” “I know you’re on leave, but something’s come across my desk I think you should see. Keep in mind this is officially off the record, but I think you’ll find this interesting.” Her brow lifted. “What is it?”


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“I’d rather you come and see for yourself.” “All right. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” “Make it later this afternoon. I have a meeting with the chief this morning, so I won’t be available until then.” She sighed. “Then I’ll see you this afternoon. Bye.” “Bye.” The click of Lou hanging up on his end hummed in her ear. She ended her call and stuck the phone back in her purse. Lou sounded anxious about his finding, making her heart skip a beat. What did he have for her? She paced a bit. Part of her wanted to go now, but if Lou was in a meeting, his office would be locked up tighter than a drum, and she couldn’t rummage through. Besides, she wouldn’t know what she was looking for. Christine threw a look to the rumpled bed. Drake was gone. “Drake?” she called out. She ventured into the closet and the bathroom, thinking he’d gotten up before her to clean up a bit. He wasn’t there. “Drake?” she called out again, hoping he’d answer. Nothing. She glanced back at the bed. A typewritten, ink-jet-printed letter fluttered on his pillow. Curious, she walked over to his side and picked it up. Christine, I’m sorry I wasn’t here this morning when you woke up, but business took me away. I didn’t want to wake you because you looked so beautiful and peaceful sleeping. I’m sure you’re probably hungry. The kitchen is full, so help yourself to anything there. When you leave, just turn the lock on the front door. The alarm will automatically set. I’ll be back later, so if you need me, you know how to find me. Drake. Christine sank onto the bed, staring at the tender note fluttering in her fingers. Drake was really something. Somehow, he was always there when she needed him. She laid the letter on the nightstand next to his side of the bed and pushed the hair out of her eyes. She needed to get going and soon. Lou wouldn’t wait forever. Her belly rumbled. Maybe she’d have to raid Drake’s refrigerator before she left. After taking off the silk shirt and laying it carefully on the bed, she put her dress from last night back on and


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located her heels from beneath the bed. After a small breakfast of a delicious bagel with cream cheese and yogurt, Christine left Drake’s house, following his previous instructions to a tee. The minute she twisted the lock and closed the door, she heard the countdown on the alarm. Good. Now she didn’t’ have to worry something wasn’t right. She jumped into her blood red Mustang and fired the engine. Before she left, she took one last look at Drake’s house. It was a huge mansion with brick and quarried stone elements with a huge turret at one corner. Elegantly manicured lawns, fresh and green, complemented the style. Gardeners buzzed around the grounds, trimming, cutting and pruning, keeping the outside looking just as beautiful as the inside. Drake certainly knew how to live. She zipped down Sunset Avenue toward McLachlen Place, then on to the office on McArthur Avenue. Music blared from her radio, and she found herself singing to the tunes playing. The minute she realized what happened, she stopped. What prompted that? She hadn’t sung in years—never felt the need to. Yet in two days, she’d sung twice. Almost like her old self returned a bit. Shaking it from her mind, Christine pulled into her spot and parked. She should have waited until this afternoon like Lou said, but she couldn’t wait, not when it concerned David. Christine pulled her name badge out, clipped the plastic placard onto her purse, and flashed it at the guard near the metal detector. After a brief scan, she went to her desk amid the stares of the other detectives. She stifled the urge to smile. They’d never seen her dressed like this before, and after today, they never would again. She dropped her purse off at her desk drawer and locked it, then threaded her way down to Lou’s office. Christine reached his office with a few quick steps only to find him leaning back in chair, a casual stance, on the phone with someone. Good. He wasn’t upset at the moment. If he were, he would talk so fast that she wouldn’t be able to get a word out of him. Lou motioned her in. Her heart throbbed uneasily as she pushed open the door and closed it quietly behind her. She slid into the chair in front of Lou’s desk. “Yes, I promise I’ll get it done. You can count on me. Have a good day.” He slammed the phone down and looked at her, his gaze traveling her body up and down. “Where in the hell have you been?” “’Doesn’t matter,” she snapped and took the chair in front of him. “What did you find on David?” Lou’s expression dropped and he said, “I’ve got a meeting with the chief in five minutes, and


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I’m afraid it’s going to take a lot longer than that to explain it to you. That’s why I asked you to come by this afternoon.” The sudden ring of the phone cut through their conversation. Lou snatched the receiver up in one meaty fist and held it to a slightly deformed right ear, courtesy of his youthful boxing ambitions. “Carpenter. Yes, Chief.” Pause. “Okay, we’ll have the meeting tomorrow. Thanks for letting me know.” He replaced the receiver. “It seems like I’m off the hook for the moment.” “Good. Now you have all the time in the world to tell me about the investigation.” Lou opened his desk drawer, the screech of metal against metal rising in the air, and extracted a manila folder. He tossed it on the desk top. “This is the medical file on David. It seems he suffered extreme blood loss.” She looked at him curiously. “I know. I was there.” Lou’s eyes narrowed. “I know you were, but when the investigative unit canvassed the area, they found very little blood on the ground, completely inconsistent with his loss.” Confusion slipped through her like an unwanted virus. “How is this possible? If he didn’t bleed out onto the ground, where did it go?” Lou shrugged. “Not sure. When they examined his clothes, there was very little on it as well.” “What about the coroner’s report?” A mask of perplexity marched across his reddish face. “Here’s what’s even stranger. The coroner reported that he died of a heart attack, not blood loss as the doctors have stated. Also, the description of the body is very inconsistent with David’s appearance and weight—even hair color.” Christine took the report from the desk and sat back, thumbing through the pages inside. She studied the doctor’s reports then the autopsy report. Blood pounded in her ears as she compared the details from one report to another, trying to match everything up. Unfortunately, nothing did. “Someone switched bodies,” she said slowly. “That’s the only answer.” “Hard to say.” Christine shuffled through the rest of the contents, looking for one key piece of evidence. She went through three times, and it still wasn’t there. “Where are the autopsy photos?” This smacked of conspiracy as well because no coroner let a report out of his or her hands without photos. Lou leaned forward and grabbed the silent phone. “They’re not in there for some reason. I’m


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not sure why they didn’t send them. I’ll call over there and have the pictures sent to us.” Christine stood, instinctively pulling the hem of her dress as low as it would go and said, “Don’t bother. I’ll stop by there on my way home and pick them up.” She gathered the folder in her hand. “I’ll take this with me and keep everything together.” “I can’t let you do that. You’re not even on this case.” “I’ll bring it back this afternoon along with the pictures, no sweat.” His graying eyebrow lifted. “Are you sure?” “Positive. “All right, I’ll call down and have the lab get them ready. I’ll let them know you’re coming down.” She gave him salutary wave. “See ya in a bit.” With that, she spun on her stiletto heel and left his office. She definitely felt better this morning, much calmer than she’d been in a while. Maybe spending the night with Drake had been a good idea after all. Christine hurried downstairs and jumped in her Mustang. She zoomed off to home where she showered and changed again. This time she slipped on a pair of jeans and silk blouse. Instead of twisting her hair in its usual ponytail, she let the wild curls tumble down her back in sable waves. After slipping her feet into her favorite pair of Skechers, she took off again for the coroner’s office. An austere building in the middle of busy Beaumont, the high-rise teemed with people moving in and out. She reached the coroner’s office on the ground floor in no time and slipped through security easily by flashing her badge. “Dr. Johnson’s waiting for ya,” Leroy Helms said cheerfully and waved her through. She’d known Leroy off and on throughout the years, and he was a good guy. Too bad his wife was a complete and utter tramp. She brushed his dark cheek with a quick kiss and gave him a strong hug. “Thanks, bud. I’ll go and see him now. How’s Teresa?” “Pregnant again. I swear she’s got eggs like Pac-Man! Just eats my junk up!” Christine smiled at his comment and trundled down the hallway to Dr. Johnson’s office. Harsh odors of formaldehyde floating through the expanse of the hallway made her want to gag, but she pushed the God-awful stench from her mind. She had more important things to do than be running for the toilet.


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The shades of Dr. Johnson’s office hid the inner contents of the room. She frowned. He never closed them, even when he wasn’t there. She raised her hand and knocked. “Come in,” said a woman with a sweet voice. Christine entered the room to find an exotic looking young woman standing behind the desk. The woman lifted her head and greeted Christine with the most dazzling blue eyes she’d ever seen. “May I help you?” “I’m looking for Dr. Johnson.” She couldn’t help but notice the intense exoticness of the woman’s cinnamon-colored skin, fresh and healthy. Christine’s own complexion was pale for want of a tan. No matter how hard she tried to tan, she always burned then turned pale. She could never get the golden sun-kissed look. The woman brushed a lock of silky black hair out of her eyes, a smile across her movie star lips. “I’m Tina Larson, his assistant. How can I help you?” “I’m just picking up the coroner’s pictures for a case I’m working on.” Tina slipped a pair of square cut glassed onto her pert nose. “Oh, that’s right. Captain Carpenter called and said you’d be picking them up.” “Yep.” She pretended to glance at her watch as strange sense of sudden uneasiness washed over her like a wave. Suddenly, she didn’t like the person standing before her. “I’m in a bit of a hurry, so if I could have those, it’d be great.” “Sure, sure,” Tina said and shuffled through a stack of papers on Dr. Johnson’s desk. “Sorry, this is such a mess. I know I put those here just a second ago. Give me a minute, would you?” Christine shifted amid the rising of her hackles. Something about this woman didn’t ring right, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. She sighed. Just her overworked nerves and imagination, she supposed. Tina suddenly stopped and looked up, removing her glasses in a slow fashion. “You don’t want these pictures.” Her tone dropped, less friendly than before. “Yes, I do. Now give them to me right now.” “Look into my eyes and tell me that you still want them.” With her body well beyond her control, she obeyed Tina’s order. Brilliant colors of blue, green, red, violet, and yellow swirled in Tina’s eyes in a hypnotizing fashion, drawing her in. Shapes turned into creatures, the likes of which she’d never seen before, all tumbling around and around. Lights pulsated different color, swirling faster than any kaleidoscope she’d ever seen. A


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strange feeling of lightheadedness overwhelmed her and tried to claim her for its own, but she managed to push the emotion away. Christine blinked hard and broke whatever spell Tina placed on her. “What are you?” “Your worst nightmare,” Tina said in a husky tone and walked around the side of the desk in a predatory gait. “Stand where you are.” Christine attempted to move from her spot, but her tense muscles refused to cooperate as if some strange magic had its cold fingers dug into her soul. She watched helplessly as Tina’s white uniform and name tag disappeared, replaced by a flowing gown of the deepest gauzy crimson. Tina’s glossy hair lengthened to her waist in soft waves. Worse yet, her eyes changed to almost black, menacing and deep. “Who are you?” “Your mother, your father.” Tina purred with the enthusiasm of a panther ready to strike. “Your maker.” “Ma-maker of what?” “Of vampires,” Tina purred. “For I am Zakara, Queen of all Vampires. You shall be one of us.” She trembled in her spot. Her bladder suddenly weighed a ton and threatened to let go. “I don’t want to be one of you.” This couldn’t be happening. Vampires didn’t exist. Once maybe, in legend, but not in this day and age. “You have no choice, my dear. I will make you one of us.” “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Drake thundered from the doorway. She couldn’t turn her head but knew the voice to be unmistakably his. “She is mine,” Zakara snapped throwing her taloned hand toward Drake. “I will do with her what I wish.” The sound of a footstep echoed in the tiny office, his voice looming closer. “Not if I’ve already marked her.” Zakara hissed through clenched teeth. She twisted Christine’s face to the side, staring at the spot where her neck met with the curve of her shoulder. She howled with an unearthly sound. “Damn you!” “If you think making her one of us will bring me back into your arms and your bed, it won’t. Nothing will.”


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“You must care for your plaything enough to mark her and keep her from me,” Zakara taunted. Christine’s heart thundered. What did she mean plaything? Did she mean Drake was a vampire as well? She shook with fright at the implications of it all. “No matter. I’ll have her somehow, someway with or without your mark.” Drake moved into Christine’s line of vision, strong and overpowering, his form dwarfing Zakara’s. “You know the rules because you set them yourself.” Zakara zeroed in on Drake. He stood there, stock still as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. “Remember all the time we spent in bed together? All the world is waiting for us to rule it.” A wild stab of jealousy pierced the fear and went right through to Christine’s heart. Why did she feel this way? He threw Zakara’s arms away. “Those are times I’d rather forget, Zakara. Now go away before I throw you out into a vat of acid.” “Now let’s not be hasty, my love.” “I’m not your love, and I never have been. You don’t know the meaning of the word or its concept. It’s all foreign to you.” Zakara twisted her head in Christine’s direction. “I will get you, precious, at the right moment. When I do, your death will be slow and painful, this I swear.” With those words hanging in the air, Zakara disappeared into a black mist that dissipated as quickly as it had formed. Drake stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her arms. He looked into her eyes, their cold steel gray penetrating her senses. “This is all a dream, something you’ll remember having had last night, not today.” Instantly, the entire scene emptied from her mind. Once complete, nothingness came in and claimed her. **** Drake caught her body just before she made it to the floor. Damn Zakara! How dare she touch what was his! He swung Christine’s lithe body into his arms effortlessly. He hadn’t wanted to glamour her and everyone else in the building, but he had no choice. The minute he heard her thoughts, he knew she was in trouble. He thought that maybe David had harassed her, but he was too young


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to be out in the sun yet. Zakara would have to wait until he was at least a hundred-year-old vampire to administer the spell because, otherwise, his body wouldn’t be able to take the strain. There was only one place to take her and that was his home. She’d be safe there—for now. He frowned. How would he convince her that she needed to stay with him for an indefinite period and hold off on her investigation? He strode out of the office with her limp body in his arms. He’d have to think about that later. Right now, Christine needed caring, and that was the only thing occupying his mind.

Chapter Six Christine’s head throbbed unmercifully as she opened her eyes. What in the hell happened? The last thing she remembered was stopping off at the coroner’s office—then nothing. “Glad to see you’re awake. Want a cup of coffee?” She whirled around to see Drake sitting in the chair near her bed, stretched out to the fullest extent. Her heart skipped a beat. “What—how? Better yet, what are you doing here?” He stood and came over to the bed. “Taking care of you. What else?” “How did I get here?” “You called me on your cell phone saying you weren’t feeling well and you wanted me to come get you.” She made a quick mental note to check her phone. She may have been feeling bad but she never would have called him. “Thanks for coming to get me.” “You’re welcome.” Her eyebrow lifted. “How did you know where I lived?” “You silly goose. You gave it to me over the phone. Boy, you really aren’t feeling well.” She downplayed her suspicions. One thing a cop never did was show any type of emotion where an investigation was concerned. “I guess I’m just coming down with the flu or something. Is that offer for coffee still good?” “I’ve got the time if you’ve got the coffee.” Christine swung her legs over the side of the bed. Soft fibers of the carpet caressed her naked toes. “Where are my shoes?”


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Drake picked up his jacket from the chair and draped it over his arm. “Under the bed.” She bent down to pick them up but was overcome with a wild wave of dizziness. She rocked a bit and fell against Drake, who caught her easily. Christine’s nipples puckered beneath her blouse the minute she came into contact with him, her pussy convulsing in response. Her heart thundered, and her head roared the minute his cologne washed over her. She hugged onto him tightly, her arms wrapping around his strong waist. Damn, he felt so good. She looked up and met with his smoldering, lusty gaze. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” “Long time for what?” “To hold someone like this.” “Yes, it has,” she confessed and pressed against him farther, burying her nose into his neatly pressed shirt. The scent of masculinity mingled with his cologne made her far too heady to stop now. “I can’t seem to stop.” The corner of his lips curled up seductively. “Who said you had to?” Unable to deny her feelings anymore, she wound an arm around his thick neck and guided him in for a kiss. She captured his mouth with hers. For the first time in a while, she allowed her hunger to show through. She accepted his probing tongue and danced with him. She tasted the experience in his kiss, secretly hoping she was up to his challenge. Drake’s hands drifted beneath her shirt and bra, pushing both up in order to expose her breasts. Cool air drifted over the ripening nubs, making them harder than ever. He swept his thumbs over each pink peak and brought them to quick attention, forcing slight moans from her. “That feels so good,” she murmured against his mouth. “Wait,” he said and slid from her mouth to the valley of her neck. Lowering himself to his knees, Drake closed his mouth over one pink berry tip. He nibbled the tender flesh and then circled the areola with his dancing tongue. She gasped as he rendered attention to one breast, then the other until he brought each mound together. His talented tongue teased her nipples until she thought she’d explode. “Damn, you make my cock hard, woman,” he whispered against her. “You don’t know how bad I want to come inside you.” Christine drew her head up. No, she couldn’t—yet. “You don’t want to take me to bed.” He released her and stood. Taking her hand, he guided it to his rock-hard prick. “Does this tell


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you I don’t want to take you to bed?” “I’m just a release, nothing more. I’m no good at sex.” “Who said?” Christine drew her bra and shirt down and walked a short distance away. “Doesn’t matter. I’m just no good.” Drake’s hands descended on her shoulders and spun her around. She met his fiery gaze. “How many men have you taken to bed?” “One.” Drake sucked in a ragged breath, his fingers tightening on her shoulders. “I’ll bet the asshole didn’t take time to teach you anything.” Christine shrugged. She’d given herself to Jason because no one else wanted her. Sure, all he did was hop on, come, then hop off. No finesse or style. “No, he really didn’t. Before, the other night, I didn’t even know what an orgasm was until you gave it to me.” **** Drake’s fury at her former lover’s incompetence strained his resolve. How dare anyone treat this beautiful woman as though she were nothing? “I’m glad because I intend to do that as often as you’ll let me.” He noticed her eyes moisten but no tears flowed. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” “Yes, it is.” Christine squared her shoulders, her spin stiff. “I think it best that you leave now, Drake.” “I’m not leaving here until I’ve given you a lesson in sex.” “But—” He silenced her protests with a finger to her lips. She needed to spend some time with someone who cared, and he definitely did care about her. How or when it happened, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he needed to take care of her. “No buts. I’m your master, and you’re my student if you will. You’ve already had your first lesson the other night at Berserker. Now it’s time for lesson number two.” She appeared frightened but managed to keep her voice even. “What lesson is that?” “This.” Drake unbuckled his jeans and freed his cock. Christine emitted a sharp gasp, and he’d fully expected it. His prick wasn’t exactly on the normal side. Actually, most of the women in his


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village always vied for a spot in his bed because of the oversized organ. Dagmar had been the only one brave enough to marry him and take it on several times a day every day. “Touch me.” Christine reached out and caressed the tip, light and feathery. He sucked in a sharp breath at her magic touch. She was so damned good, more than she could have ever known. “Move down and touch my sac,” he instructed and closed his eyes, reveling in the bewitching power of her caress. She obeyed him without question, her nails scraping against his skin. Drake bucked against her hand. “Knead them slowly and gently.” He noticed a change in her movements as if her fear slowly ebbed away. She drew a fingertip up the underside of his cock toward the tip. A bit of pre-come glistened at the tip, a good sign. “Drop to your knees and take me into your mouth.” A shadow of fear crossed her face. “That big thing?” “Don’t worry about taking it in all the way—unless you want to,” he said with a sly grin. Maybe she’d at least give it a try. **** Christine sank to her knees in front of him and gripped his thick cock with both of her tiny hands. “I’m not very good at this.” Drake ran his fingers through her silky strands. “I’m a patient teacher, and if we have to keep doing this to give you some practice, then we will.” Christine stared at the thick cock in front of her. She’d never thought a man’s appendage had been much to look at before now, and she was hungry for his cock. She opened her mouth and plunged down, taking as many inches as she could and tried to keep from gagging. Up and down she bobbed, making sure she stroked him with her hands as well. “Lick the head,” Drake instructed in a strangled whisper. She followed his commanded and slathered the mushroom-like tip, making sure she encircled all edges. Drake gripped her head gently and held her still while he fucked her mouth in a slow motion. “That’s it, Christine, keep going.” She increased her sucking and her hand motions, up and down. Releasing one hand, she


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cupped his balls and kneaded them in conjunction with her licking and loving of him. “Oh, yeah, I’m almost there,” he said with gritted teeth. A strange sense of sexual power filled her, almost as if the fact he was about ready to come because of her motions brought it on. His pumping increased but not too much where she’d gag. He was perfect. Drake thrust harder than before and an explosion of hot salty warmth filled her mouth. “God, you’re wonderful,” he said in a strangled moan and thrust once more to empty his appendage. He withdrew, got her to her feet, and helped her to the bathroom. She emptied her mouth, and Drake cleaned up as well. When he finished, he perched himself on her sink and watched her brush her teeth with fascination. “You never cease to amaze me.” “What’s that?” she asked and spit out her foamy toothpaste. “You say you’re no good at sucking cock, but yet you made me come all over the place.” She stopped and stared at the mirror. “Please don’t lie to me. I can’t take lies just now.” “No, it’s true. I don’t think I’ve had better oral sex than this.” Christine wanted to cry but couldn’t. She hated when anyone told her a lie to make her feel better. “I don’t know how.” Drake spun her around. “Because you care no matter how much you say you don’t. That makes all the difference in the world.” Christine leaned against him and held on. “I wish I could believe that.” His strong arms wound around her. “Believe it because it’s true.” He glanced at his watch. “Oh, hell, look at the time.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “I’ve got to be at the club in a half hour. There’s some big deliveries coming in, and Nicholas can’t be there for them.” “Isn’t he the one with the exotic-looking Russian wife?” “Yep. He comes in now and then for deliveries, but he can’t be there today.” She gave him one last hug, holding on tightly because she didn’t really want to let go. “So much for the afternoon.” “Are you going to be down at the club tonight?” “Of course. There’s work to be done.” He lifted her chin and planted a scorching kiss on her. “Then I will be counting down the hours


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until I see you again.” Drake left the bathroom, and she heard him go down the hall with a whistle on his lips. The front door slammed, leaving her alone. Christine banged her fists against the sink. Why wouldn’t Jason’s ghost of mistrust ever leave her? This was the first man she’d been remotely intimate with in a long time, and somehow the bastard managed to ruin it though he’d moved away from Beaumont a few years prior. She left the bathroom and headed back to the bedroom. Spying her cell phone, she picked it up and flipped through her outgoing calls. She froze. There’d been no outgoing call to Drake. She looked up. If she didn’t call him, how in the hell did he know to show up at the coroner’s office? Hmm, something wasn’t jelling here, but she’d have to worry about that a little later. David was top priority right now. Picking up the manila envelope from the coroner’s office, she opened it and extracted the pictures. Some showed the body with the customary Y-shaped incision and some with the internal organs exposed. From what she could see, the body looked much older than David’s body. Finally, she came to the bottom of the stack. She gasped, looking at the last picture. It isn’t David. The man’s hair was grayed at the temples and wasn’t even the right color. The face was wrong and too ethnic looking. She threw the pictures across the room. If this wasn’t David, where was he? Whose ashes did she scatter into the ocean? Christine couldn’t take this back to the office, knowing what she did. Picking up her cell phone, she dialed Lou. An exasperated “Hello” hummed in her ear. “I’m not going to make it back today. I’m really sick,” she said, lying. “You seemed okay when you left here. Did you get the pictures?” “I did, but they don’t show much. Not sure what’s going on here.” “I can come by your place and pick them up.” “Oh, no, you can’t. I’m really sick. I’ve barely left the bathroom since I got home.” A pause then a sigh. “Okay, get it to me as soon as possible. If I don’t have it in forty-eight hours, I’m going to hunt you down.”


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“I wouldn’t have expected anything less.” “Hope you feel better,” he offered in a low tone. “Me too. Have a good day.” She clicked the phone shut, ending the call. The last thing she needed was more questions from him. Christine leaned against the plump pillows on her bed, threading her hands behind her head. This investigation had certainly taken a strange twist. **** Christine arrived at Berserker around nine o’clock in the evening. The man Drake had assigned to park her car stood outside, hands stuffed into deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. His wind chapped cheeks glowed red, his breath dancing on the chilly night air. She pulled up to the curb and got out, handing the keys to the man. “Thanks so much for doing this for me. Let me get you something,” she said and opened her purse to get a few dollars out. The man held his hand up. “Mr. Haaken says no tips from you. He usually gives me fifty at the end of my shift for doing this.” She smiled. Once again, Drake took care of everything. “All right then. Can you at least tell me your name?” “Michael.” “Michael what?” “No last name. Just Michael’s good enough.” He reached out and took her keys. For the first time, she noticed old track marks on the back of his hands. Former junkie, she supposed, one that Drake had taken a chance on and had given a job to. Christine shook his hand. “Again, thank you.” She walked away with the roaring of her Mustang’s engine over her shoulder. She smiled. Maybe Drake did have a heart of gold that she was slowly discovering. She marched past the line around the block to the burly doorman who waved her in, much to the chagrin and catcalls of the other people waiting. “Why does she automatically get to go in?” shouted one partygoer. “Because she’s VIP, that’s why asshole,” the efficient doorman yelled back. “Go home. You’re not getting in tonight dickwad.”


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Christine swept in past the throng hovering near the door. The club was much livelier than before. Perching herself on a barstool, she ordered an apple martini. The short, plump bartender with the droopy mustache fixed it and slid the full glass across the granite bar top. “How much?” “No charge,” he said with a crooked smile. “Courtesy of Mr. Haaken.” “Oh,” she answered and slid a five across the counter. “This is for you.” He pushed the money back. “Per Mr. Haaken’s orders. No tips from you. He’ll take care of me at the end of the night.” “Very well,” she said with a sigh. “Where is Mr. Haaken?” “In his office. He’s expecting you.” “Thanks.” Christine slid off the barstool and straightened the little black number she was sporting tonight. The dress bared her back and shoulders with a thin strap of satin going around her neck. Her hem ended midthigh, giving everyone a great view of her legs. She was totally uncomfortable like this, but she didn’t have a choice. She needed to fit in with the crowd at Berserker and finish her investigation. She strode toward the door leading to Drake’s office on slightly unsteady legs. The platform pumps reminded her of fuck-me shoes, much higher than the ones she’d worn the other night. She wobbled a little bit but managed to stay on her feet. After tonight, she’d probably never wear them again. She placed a hand on the knob and turned, entering the dimly lit hallway. Strangely, the music seemed nonexistent here, almost as if Drake had everything soundproofed. At his door, she raised a hand and knocked. “Come in, Christine.” She pushed open the strong slab of wood. “How did you know it was me?” He spun around in his handcrafted leather chair and stared at her with a smile on his lips. His lusty gaze traveled up and down her body, as if he drank in her appearance. The corner of his lips curved up in appreciation. “Damn, you look good enough to eat. Did anyone ever tell you that you have gorgeous legs?” Christine took a tentative step in and closed the door, pushing his compliment from her mind. No time for pleasantries. “No.” “I’m surprised.” He stood up and closed the distance between them with several long strides. Touching her bare


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arms, he pulled her close. “You really are spectacular.” She pulled away from him with a reluctant jerk. The last thing she ever wanted to be was lied to. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, okay?” “That’s one thing about me you’ll learn, dearest Christine. I never lie. I’m not capable of it.” “All men are capable of lying. You’re no exception.” Drake’s chilly hands resumed their place on her shoulders and pulled her back. “I have no reason to lie, and I don’t care to. I merely speak the truth, and from your words, I know someone hurt you in the past by telling you that you’re worthless and ugly. To be honest, I’d love to get my hands on that person and tear them limb from limb for doing that to you.” “Doesn’t matter. He was right.” She stopped as those words slipped out. Sharing any bit of feeling with him wasn’t something she wanted to do—just yet. “No, he wasn’t, and I don’t want to hear that out of your mouth again. I don’t know what I have to do to make you understand that, but I will, no matter how long it takes me to do it.” Drake crushed her to him and captured her lips with such a fevered hunger that she was blown away. **** He tasted the hesitation in her kiss, but Odin be damned, he wanted her terribly. The way she looked tonight did it for him, from the dress to the hair. He sensed and smelled her desire the minute she walked in. Oh, yeah, she wanted him just as badly. Drake brushed his hands down her back to her perfect heart-shaped ass, cupped each half globe, and pushed her against his hard cock in provocative temptation. If his ready dick didn’t assure her that he wanted her, nothing would. Christine broke the kiss and pushed away. “As much as I want to keep that up, I can’t.” His brow curiously. “Why not?” “I’ve got work to do,” she said in a sharp tone. “Was there anything you needed to talk to me about?” Drake growled low and slid his ass on the desk. “I think I already did.” “Be serious.” He shrugged. “Actually, I am. What I did want to talk to you about was not investigating David’s


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death, at least not tonight.” “Why not?” How should he tell her that Zakara’s minions moved about the club, shrouded in her spells to keep them hidden from his detection? Her human mind couldn’t comprehend the fact vampires moved among the living much like anyone else. Some could move about during the day, but most existed under the cover of darkness. “I have my reasons.” Christine’s beautifully formed mouth turned into a frown. “Tell me why I shouldn’t go ahead, and I might consider it.” He held back. “I can’t for now. Later, I’ll be able to discuss them with you, but not right now.” He hated being arrogant and pushy, but this case called for it. “Well, you’ve said your peace and expressed your concerns, but I’m afraid I can’t stop tonight or any other time. David is out there, and I’m determined to find him.” “What makes you say that?” **** Christine wavered over whether she should tell him what she found or didn’t find. It was police business and not for a civilian to know. “Because he is, that’s all I can tell you.” His eyes narrowed into a mask of deep concern. “You said you scattered his ashes in the ocean weeks ago. Why do you think he’s still alive?” Christine squared her shoulders. She didn’t owe him or anyone else any explanation for what she needed to do. “As I’ve said before, that’s all I can tell you. Now, if you don’t need to talk to me about anything else, I need to get my night started.” She spun on her heel and left the ornate office and Drake behind. She really liked him a lot but not his overbearing attitude about her investigation. First and foremost, she was a cop who could handle anything thrown her way. Her head roared with an anxious flow of emotions as she laid her hand on the knob of the outer door. She had to find something out about David tonight, or she might never find out what actually happened. **** Drake stared at the closed door vacated by Christine, silently cursing himself. He should have glamoured her to keep her out of danger but to what end? The human mind hadn’t been built for continuous glamouring, no matter how much it might be required.


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“What do you plan on doing?” He whirled about at Alexandra’s throaty voice echoing from the dark shadows of his office. “Please tell me you weren’t hiding there all the time.” She stepped beyond the confines of the darkness dressed in her hunting clothes. “Oh, hell no. Please, I’m not pervert—at least not like that.” She laughed and tossed her wild mane of black hair over her shoulder. “Seems like your plaything has a mind of her own.” His fists bunched at the sides. He hated when Alex did this. “She’s not a plaything. She’s a woman who needs a little caring and understanding.” “Plus a bit more I would say.” Alexandra chuckled. “I think my dear Drake has found his mate.” He held his fury in check. He didn’t want anyone to know what was going on, for he barely knew himself. He couldn’t say he was in love with Christine, but he knew he wanted her more than anything right now. Her naïveté drew him like a beacon, a light he could see himself consumed with. Under his tutelage, she would blossom like a flower after the first warm day of spring. “I wouldn’t go that far.” “I would but then again, I always go too far.” She glanced at his wardrobe of jeans, a silk shirt, and boots. “Are you hunting like that?” He shook his head. “Not hungry tonight.” It was a lie. He was always hungry, but with age came restraint. He could go several days without eating if he chose. Not that he ever did that much. Only when necessity arose. “The rest of us are going, and it’s a shame you won’t go with us.” “It’s important I stay here and watch over Christine. Zakara’s minions are about ready to strike at any given moment.” Her dark eyes narrowed into a worried V. “How can you be sure? I’ve felt nothing.” “She’s cloaked them, I’ll bet.” Zakara may have hidden them from him, but that didn’t stop a deep stirring within himself when one of her minions was near. He sensed something foul in the air tonight, and he needed to be here for Christine in case trouble brewed. “They’re here, but I can’t discern which ones are hers from the others.” Alexandra snapped her fingers and instantly, a deep red dress and shoes replaced the leather hunting clothes. “In that case, I’ll not hunt tonight either, and neither will the others once I let them know what’s happening.” “This isn’t your fight. It’s mine.” Alexandra walked over and placed a soft, feathery kiss on his cheek. “Did you forget that when


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she fights one of us, she fights all of us? Give me a few minutes to alert the others, and we’ll be back in a flash to help you. With those words, Alexandra disappeared in a cloud of black mist and was gone. He smiled. He couldn’t have asked for better friends than those of the coven. **** The music blaring from the hidden speakers changed to a slow, steady beat while she was gone. People crowded the dance floor swaying to an old song from the seventies. She’d heard the tune but couldn’t quite recall the title. “‘It’s More than a Woman’ by the Bee Gees,” a man with a deep voice offered next to her. She turned to see a handsome man standing there, his dark hair swept low into his eyes. For a minute, she thought him to be David, but it wasn’t. His extraordinarily light brown eyes seemed to pierce her soul, and instantly, a sense of warmth cascaded over her and she relaxed. “Thanks,” she said in a slow tone. “I couldn’t remember the name.” “Would you like to dance?” “Sure,” she said before she even thought it about his offer. She took his hand and noticed the same iciness as Drake’s, but for some reason, it didn’t seem to matter at all. The man with the strange eyes guided her to the dimly lit dance floor, allowing her to see more of him. Tight black jeans clung to the lower half of his body, hugging each curve of muscle. A leather vest covered his well sculpted chest and bared his delightfully muscled arms. He took her into his arms and touched her back. Normally, she’d be the first one to run away, but this man’s caress didn’t frighten her at all. “My name is Sly,” he purred into her ear. “What’s yours?” “Christine,” she said before she could conjure up a fake name. Suddenly, the investigation and things didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Well, Christine, how about you and I getting out of here so we can get to know each other better?” “I—don’t think so,” she managed to choke out. Whatever hold he had on her was breaking. “What if I told you I have information about your friend’s death?” She stopped and pushed back away from Sly, the roaring in her head growing louder. “What do


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you know?” His beautiful expression dropped. “I can’t tell you here because there’re too many ears and there’ll be a price on my head if I tell you,” “Please, tell me what happened to David,” she begged, clutching his leather vest with strong fingers. Sly looked around. “Come with me. I’ll find a quiet place for us to talk.” Suspicion niggled at her and warned her not to go with him. She completely ignored the cop’s instincts that had saved her ass on more than a few occasions. “Tell me here.” “Look, Christine, I just told you I can’t. If you don’t want to know what really happened, fine. Without me, you’ll never find the truth,” Just as she opened her mouth to ask a few more questions, Sly stomped away from her and wove his way through the thick throng of people clinging to each other on the dance floor. Damn! She had to follow him now and take the chance something may happen. If she didn’t and he had information about David’s death, she’d kick herself for not going and finding out. Christine managed to keep her eyes on Sly’s departing form through the crowd. He sure as hell wasn’t going to lose her. She managed to catch up with him near the back of the room, where couples writhed on the couches in sexual bliss. She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Okay, you’ve got it. I’ll follow you, but be warned—don’t try anything funny, or you’ll find yourself in something you’d rather not be in.” Sly smiled. An expanse of extremely white teeth glistened. “I’m not going to do anything to you except give you the information you’re looking for.” “Good. Let’s go.” Sly pushed open an exit door leading to the alleyway. Dank air greeted her, ripe with piss and stale body odor. Forgotten papers blew in the wind next to the Dumpster, the edges fluttering in the night breeze. A bum’s dream, she thought idly as they trekked farther down the alley. She opened her purse and curled her fingers around the handle of her Magnum. No one would best her at all. Sly halted just past the edge of the giant Dumpster, his back to her. “This will be a good place.” Christine stopped in her tracks with anxiety banging her veins, her finger curled around the trigger of her gun. “Now that we’re alone, tell me what you know.”


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“Come closer,” Sly asked in a low tone She took a step or two ahead, her purse tight at her side. “Stop playing games with me and tell me what you know, or else I’ll go back inside.” “You won’t,” he said with a confident air. “You hunger to know what happened to your precious partner, and you won’t leave here until you know what I do.” She trembled. How in the hell did he know what she was thinking. “Then tell me.” Sly turned around slowly. Her jaw dropped the moment she saw his eyes deepened in color, almost black with fiery red rimming the edges of his iris. “Come to me, my dear so I can taste of your sweet blood.” Inexplicably, her legs worked on their own, taking her toward this man who claimed her wanted to taste her blood. A knot of fear formed in her throat, preventing her ability to scream for help. She tried to clutch the gun inside her purse, but Sly waved his hand and the bag few far out of her reach. Sly’s cold hands circled her neck and bent her head to the right, exposing her jugular vein to him. “My Queen gave me a command to destroy you, and I shall, but very slowly to her pleasure.” He looked to his right. “As you have said, my Queen?” A woman emerged from the shadows, her eyes glowing even more than Sly’s. Gauzy white fabric encased her while a crown of precious jewels twinkled on her head of magnificent black hair like stars thrown into the dark night sky. “Yes, I want her dead, but oh so very slowly. I want her to beg for your mercy for death before you’re through.” Sly nodded. “As you wish, my Queen.” Christine smelled Sly’s stinking breath as he closed in to her neck. Fear grabbed her, sending her heart beat into a new rhythm. The moisture dried in her mouth, and her throat tightened in anticipation of his bite. She shivered. Drake, she called silently, come save me!

Chapter Seven The moment the thought died in her head, Sly flew backward and landed against the wall of the alley. He slid down the wall into a crumpled heap. “I knew you’d try something this low, Zakara,” Drake said from behind Christine. Instant relief flooded her, mingled with a spot of anger. Why did she always rely on Drake and not take care of herself? She was a cop for God’s sake!


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“I told you I’d get her, and I still will, though it may take a bit of time.” Zakara floated toward Christine and caressed Christine’s cheek with a sharp fingernail. “All I have is time, human, and you will be one of my minions, no matter how long it takes.” Drake threw Zakara’s hand away from Christine, the fury radiating from him in hot, scorching waves. “She’ll never belong to you.” “She will, and once she does, you’ll come back to my bed where you belong.” “Never, you bitch. Take your plaything and go. If I ever see you or one of them around her or this club, I swear I won’t be responsible for my actions.” Zakara hissed low and evilly. “Is that a threat?” “No, it’s a promise. Now get the fuck out of here.” Zakara waved a hand in front of Christine’s face. “You will be mine eventually, but I will release you for now. I will haunt your every step and dog your every move. You’ll never know a moment’s peace.” With that, Zakara, along with Sly, dissolved into a puff of black smoke and became one with the night. Christine, curving into his body for protection, fell against Drake. Immediately, she wound her arms around his waist. “Thank God, you’re here,” she murmured against his chest. “I thought Sly was going to kill me.” “He might have,” Drake murmured low and stroked her wild curls. “But don’t worry about that right now.” He bent and swept her up into his arms. “Where are we going?” “Some place safe where I can take care of you and chase all your nightmares away.” Christine buried her face in the crook of his neck and inhaled his fragrant cologne, allowing the warmth and safety of his body to fill her. Even her racing heart slowed dramatically. “What were those people, and why did they want to kill me?” “All will be made known to you soon,” Drake reassured her as they stepped inside the club. “Your investigation is over for the night.” Tears threatened. “Okay.” She sniffed. “I just want to be with you right now.” “Just what I wanted to hear. Nicholas and the others are here, so they’ll watch the club while we take off for the rest of the night.” She remained silent as he took her to his Jaguar and loaded her in. Drake closed her door and


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moved to his side. He opened the door and slid behind the wheel. The engine roared to life when he turned the key. She listened to the quiet hum while they traveled to an unknown destination, the lights of the city a pleasant blur as they zoomed by. What seemed like hours had only been minutes when they pulled up to Drake’s elegant mansion in the Waverly Crest section of town. She sat there for a moment, summoning the strength to get out of the car. Before she could commit to going in, Drake opened her door, slipped his arms under her, and lifted her easily from the car. One of his employees popped out of the house and took the keys from Drake to park the car. Christine snuggled deep into the safety of Drake’s arms and didn’t care if it was right or wrong anymore. She needed to be with him and taste the passion of his body at least once. Maybe, after taking him to bed, he might not be so inclined anymore because she was lousy, but at least she’d have one hell of a sweet memory to visit when her nights were cold and lonely. Drake went through the house at breakneck speed, finally arriving at his bedroom. He set her down on her feet and closed the door behind him. “You’ll be safe and no one will dare bother you here.” A shaft of moonlight drifted in the window and fell into his face in a pale shard, highlighting his rich Nordic beauty. Her breasts tingled and her nipples puckered for him while her pussy convulsed in anticipation. Oh, she wanted him so badly right now. She walked toward him and closed the gap between them. Her heart thundered beneath her chest, making her breathing a bit hitched. “Thank you so much,” she said in a whisper, threading her hands behind her neck. “I don’t know why, but I always feel so safe when I’m with you.” “You are,” he said as his hands skimmed down her body in a slow, calculated fashion. “Very safe and protected.” Christine guided him in for a soft kiss. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after tonight, but I want to create a beautiful memory.” His dark blond eyebrow rose. “Are you sure?” “Yes, though I’ll warn you I’m no good in bed. You’ll be sorely disappointed.” He chuckled low. “I doubt that somehow,” he murmured and swept her back into his arms. Drake carried her to the already turned down bed and laid her down. “If you want me to stop, then just ask me to and I will.” “I don’t think I’ll ever want you to stop.” Drake’s fingertips swept down the length of her dress and stopped at her hem. “You have no idea what you do to me, woman,” “I think I do,” she answered in a throaty purr she didn’t recognize. She swung herself into a


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kneeling position on the bed and put her arms around his neck. “I think I’ve wanted this for far longer than I can imagine, maybe from the moment we danced together.” He skimmed the sides of her dress and unzipped the neat black little number slowly. The tingle of her breasts deepened as the edge of the dress slipped down and exposed her nipples to his taste. Hungrily, Drake gripped her breasts and brought them together in order to tease the peaks in tandem. Her breath hitched while her sex flooded with juice. She threw her head back and drowned in the sensations Drake’s hands evoked on her body. He rimmed each areola with infinite expertise while kneading her mounds in the most exquisite pressure. She bucked forward and demanded a deeper loving from him. Drake obliged, alternately nibbling her nipples between his teeth and laving them with his tongue. Her skin pebbled with each stroke, her body on fire. He dropped a hand to an aching breast and then drifted it down her side to her hip. He massaged the area for a moment and then hooked his finger in the thin strap of her thong. With a quick flick, he tore the panties from her body and freed her sex to his exploration. He cupped her longing sex in his hand and rubbed back and forth, parting the damp lips with each stroke. She moaned loudly. Bright bursts of emotion curled in her belly, threatening to erupt at any time. Her clit inflamed, and he caught the nub easily in his thumb and forefinger. Drake massaged the bit of flesh with the rough pad of his thumb, making it tougher for her to hold on. Her orgasm hovered too near to be pushed back. Easily, he slid a finger into her, and her sex clamped onto him instantly. With a throaty chuckle, his slid another one inside, widening her narrow, drenched channel. Her juice coated his fingers, and he slowly pumped in and out of her like a piston. Christine’s hips rocked forward, begging for a deep penetration. Drake obliged by thrusting deeper and touching the mouth of her womb. Her hold on him deepened as if she wanted to milk his empty fingers of come. Without warning, Drake withdrew from her. Pushing her head back up, Christine stared at him, her breath hitching. “Did I do something wrong?” “Not at all,” Drake answered as he quickly divested himself of his clothes. “Coming in my pants wasn’t something I had in mind.” Christine drew back a moment, closing her legs to his invasion. “Um, I hate to ask this, but do you have some sort of protection? I’m not on the Pill or anything.” She sensed he was annoyed with her request but kept a smiling face. “Of course.” He opened a


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drawer next to the bed and extracted a condom. “Are you sure? I’m not diseased or sleep around.” “You don’t want to get me pregnant, do you?” His brow lifted. “Is that an invitation? Because I can if you want me to.” Christine shook her head. “No babies or disease.” “Pity because I’ll bet you’d be just as hot pregnant as you are now, maybe hotter,” he said with a salacious grin and slipped the condom on. Christine kicked off her shoes and slipped beneath the covers, opening the side for him. Drake slid in and took possession of her mouth with breathless abandon. He kissed her as though his life depended on it, hungry and demanding. His hands roamed over her for a moment while she touched his. Hard planed muscle resided under her curious fingertips, from his shoulders to his back. She never was into the muscled type, but Drake certainly turned her head. She threaded a bit lower to his ribs only to discover several long scars crudely stitched on his skin. She broke the kiss. “What in the hell happened?” “Long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime.” Before she could ask more questions, Drake captured her mouth and silenced her with a deep, drugging kiss. His thick cock nudged at her dripping pussy, begging for entry. She hesitated in opening her legs. It had been so long since the last time she’d had sex, it was probably going to hurt like hell, and Drake wasn’t in the slightest way small. “Open up,” he murmured against her mouth. “Let me in.” With those words, she wrapped her legs around his waist and he entered her slowly. She stiffened as pain seared up her legs, but it only lasted for a moment. Her sex widened quickly enough for him and drenched him in her juice. Drake thrust easily at first as though he didn’t want to hurt her. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t hurt anymore.” “Good. The last thing I’ll ever do is hurt you.” His thrusts increased, and she lifted her hips, pumping his latex-covered cock with everything she had. Drake grunted his pleasure and continued his piston-like action inside of her. Then he pulled back a bit and rotated his hips so the head of his cock skimmed the inside of her


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pussy. What was he doing? The slow burn of orgasm in her belly burned to a full roaring flame and exploded throughout her limbs. She cried out as she came, her fingers digging into Drake’s sides. He seemed not to notice as he thrust a few more times and came himself. He pulled out and lay to the side, his breath just as ragged as hers. “I can’t tell you how wonderful that was, the best I’ve ever had.” “I don’t know how,” she stammered. “I’m lousy.” Drake turned his face to hers. “I don’t see how. You’re fantastic.” “You’re just saying that.” “No, I’m not.” Drake moved over her and took her into his arms. “Even if it takes all night, I’m going to prove it to you.” His cock pressed against her well-sated pussy. “How can you be ready again? I thought you came!” “I didn’t,” Drake said with a sly smile and entered her again. “I’m ready to.” With the fire of her orgasm still burning, Christine accepted him again. The moment he entered her, she noticed that his rubber had disappeared. He was inside her unprotected. “What are you doing?” “Making love to you,” he murmured and came down to capture her lips again. “But I thought we agreed no disease and no babies,” she warned him halfheartedly as his lips awakened every pore of her being. “Don’t worry about the disease, and as for babies, well, that might not be such a bad thing.” Christine’s better senses attempted to claw their way to the surface. “What if I don’t want to get pregnant?” “I think you do, and I think I’m just the right man for the job.” His mouth worked his magic again, and she tried to resist. “Please, I don’t want to get pregnant by you or any man. I have a job to do, and a baby will only hamper my situation.” Drake looked at her with his eyebrows drawn. “Look, there’s a good chance you won’t get pregnant, so why not let things be? And if you did, well, I’m a rich man not without influence—” “Which means you’ll pay for the abortion and be done with it.”


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His face twisted into a mask of anger. “Not hardly. I would marry you and take care of you and the child.” She made a move to get up, but Drake kept her in position with his hands on her shoulders. “Let me go. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” “We’re going to talk about this a bit more, my dear Christine. You’ve got a lot of feelings pent up inside of you that need to come out.” Drake released her, and she turned away from him so he couldn’t see the tears rolling out of her eyes. “No, I don’t.” “Yes, you do, so tell me about them.” Why she felt this way, she wasn’t sure. Before she could stop herself, she told him of her past with crackhead Mom and all the times Mom tried to pimp her out to feed the crack addiction. She relayed her fears about having a child as well as her inability to trust and love. She sniffed back her tears. “So, you see, this is what made me what I am. I can’t change.” Drake held her tightly in the darkness of his room. “You can change, and from what I can tell, you already have.” She wiped away the errant tears. “How do you mean?” “Well, you trusted me enough to tell me everything, and you’re in my bed. I’d say you’ve made a big change.” Christine stiffened and thought back on his words. Since this whole thing started, she’d begun to trust him somewhere along the line and hadn’t even realized it. “Maybe but that doesn’t change my feelings about myself.” Drake grinned. “I’ll bet I can change your mind.” **** Christine awoke, still drunk on the never-ending stream of mindless orgasms offered by Drake’s hands. She shivered as memories of his being inside of her arose, pleasuring her no end. Darkness enveloped the room, making it tough for her to figure out what time it was. She reached next to her and found Drake’s chilly skin. “Wake up,” she called out softly in the shadows. “Hmmm, ready for another round?” he mumbled sleepily and turned over. “I thought I would have made you sore by now.” Christine smiled. She was sore, but pleasantly so. “It’s not that, though it’s not a half bad idea.


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What time is it?” “Does it matter? You’ve nowhere to be but in this bed.” “Seriously, what time is it?” Drake grunted and reached for his watch on the nightstand. He flicked a button and the face lit up. “Eleven a.m.” “Why’s it so dark in here?” Drake rolled over to his back and threaded his hands behind his head. “I had special electronic drapes installed that keep out light because I like to sleep late and the light bothers me.” “Oh,” she said with a sigh. She really needed to get going and figure out what happened last night. Speaking of which, she turned to Drake. “You said you’d tell me what happened last night.” **** He yawned. “Not much to tell really.” Drake dreaded this moment from the time he saw her partner lying on the ground. He long grappled with the decision to tell her what was going on and not reveal his true nature or tell her everything. He feared that if he told her the truth, she’d bolt from him in horror. Perhaps if he downplayed the entire episode, she might think it to be just her imagination. Christine was relentless in her pursuit of the truth. “Please tell me what you know, Drake. I can handle it. I’m a cop.” He sat up and ran a hand through his wild blond hair. How much should he tell her? “There are things in this world you won’t and can’t understand, Christine, cop or no cop. What happened last night was one of those things.” He couldn’t tell her about himself, especially since he had glamoured her a few times during sex when he’d bitten her and tasted the sweetness of her youth and beauty. He had made the wounds heal quickly and without scarring so she wouldn’t notice anything amiss. If she knew the truth, she’d faint dead away. Her tiny fingers wrapped around his arm and tugged in a gentle but urgent manner. “I won’t freak out, I promise. Just tell me what happened.” Drake raised his head to the ceiling and sighed. He was about ready to let go of the most perfect woman he’d found in a few hundred years? “Do you remember the story about Dracula?” A pause, then two beats. “Yes, I do. What does that have to do with anything?”


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“It has everything to do with it. What you saw last night were two of what Dracula was.” The digits around his arm tensed then released. “I see. So you’re saying they were vampires?” “Yes, they are and one of the most dangerous breeds.” He waited for the screaming argument about vampires simply not existing and the crying about the injustice of what had happened. She remained solemn instead. “Vampires are only legend, not fact.” A tense moment passed. “I’m afraid I’m having a hard time believing this.” He saw the disbelief written on her face, and there was only one way to erase that. He didn’t want to do it, but she left him with no other option. Opening the nightstand drawer on his side, Drake extracted a small dagger he’d kept from his time. “Let me show you something.” Fear radiated in her eyes, but she remained calm and quiet. “What do you intend to do?” “Just watch.” Drake raked the dagger across the open palm of his left hand, grimacing at the pain. Blood poured from the wound. Immediately, Christine attempted to put her hand over the bleeding wound to stop the flow. He stopped her. “Why did you do that?” “Watch.” Christine’s eyes widened as previously cut skin pulled together and became one again with no visible evidence of a scar. “H-how did you do that?” Drake slewed his head toward her, a smile curling his lips. “It’s within the realm of my powers. I can heal myself and anyone I wish to.” **** “You’re a vampire?” Christine looked away and digested all of the newfound information. She’d bedded down with a vampire and didn’t have the good sense to know it. Why hadn’t her instincts kicked in? “Because your mind told you people like me didn’t exist,” he said, reading her thoughts as easily as he would a book. “You didn’t believe this was possible.” She whirled about. “How in the hell did you know what I was thinking?” He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. “It’s within my power as well.” He opened his mouth. “There’s one last thing I’ll need to show you.” She watched with horror as two canines elongated on each side of his mouth, right around the


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area of his eye teeth. Lethal looking, the sharp points make her shiver, the slick enamel shining in the moonlight. Drake retracted them just as he forced them down. “I know that frightens you, Christine, but don’t let it.” One question burned in Christine’s belly, one she didn’t want to ask. Several times during sex, she’d felt the sting of a bite at her neck and Drake’s icy lips over area. She’d been floating too long on a cloud of unending ecstasy to notice, but now thinking back, something didn’t gel. “I have one question to ask you, and I want you to answer it honestly.” He tensed. “What is it?” “Why haven’t you killed me and drank my blood?” He pushed up from the bed and paced uneasily before the bed with all the rigor of a caged animal. “Because I’m not a cold-blooded killer, that’s why. I feed only when necessary, and it’s usually the dregs of society I feed on, not innocents.” “You drank my blood during sex.” Even in the dimness, she could see his eyes widen. “How did you realize that? I had glamoured you into not noticing it.” Her brow rose at this new term. “What’s glamouring?” “It’s one of my powers to keep you from seeing things you shouldn’t,” he said in a low tone. “Are you telling me it didn’t work?” Christine’s guard relaxed—slightly. He could still be dangerous yet had been so gentle with her. She knew she shouldn’t fear him, but part of her remained terrified of him. “I guess not,” she said and lifted up the covers. “Why did you bite me?” “It’s a natural instinct for vampires to drink a human’s blood during sex. It heightens a vampire’s orgasm and adds to the human’s as well.” “So you weren’t doing it to kill me, right?” “No. I’d rather cut off my left arm than to harm you or let harm come to you.” Christine thought on his words, knowing he’d spoken the truth. How she came by the knowledge, she wasn’t sure. All she could discern at this point were the fragile feelings growing for him inside of her. “Come back to bed.” Drake kept away from her, his arms crossed over his chest while his brow knitted in confusion. “You’re kidding, right? After what I’ve just told you, you still want me to get into bed with you?”


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She shrugged, attempting to hide the small amount of fear. “Why not? You’ve explained why you haven’t killed me already, and I hardly think it’s likely you’ll do it now.” Drake took a reflexive step toward the bed and slid under the covers. “Why aren’t you running and screaming away from me?” She curved herself against his body and allowed the relaxing feeling of comfort to wash over her. Vampire or not, Drake had taken very good care of her in the short time she’d known him. “We all have our own demons to fight, and yours are really no different than my own.” She laid her head against his strong but cold chest and circled his nipples in lazy swirls. For some reason, the strength wasn’t in her to debate his nature as a vampire. Strangely, she accepted his truth and didn’t fight it for once. He curled his fingers over hers and brought them to his lips. “I can’t believe you’re accepting me as I am and not running away screaming.” “Why is that so hard to believe?” “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you run into quite a bit of that when people find out who you really are.” “Those are people who don’t care about you as a person and view you as someone to be frightened of.” For the first time in her life, she found herself speaking exactly what was on her heart. Most of the time, she guarded every word she said, but with Drake, she didn’t feel she had to. “You really are special,” Drake murmured and pulled her up so she straddled his broad hips. “No words come to mind to tell you how much.” His thick, hard cock nudged at her sore pussy again, begging for entry. She paused for a moment and wondered about a condom. “Before we go ahead, I do have one more question.” “Still the cop.” He chuckled, slipped a hand between them, and probed her dripping pussy with a finger. “What is it?” “Since you’re a—” “Vampire,” he finished. “Yes, since you’re not exactly alive, is it still possible for you to give me some sort of disease?” “No because no virus or germ will live in me because I’m no longer human.” “Good. That’s the last thing I want.” She didn’t bother asking about pregnancy because from what she’d read in the past about vampires, they couldn’t sire children because they were


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dead. Drake slipped a finger into her drenched channel, and she winced. “Oh, hell, you’re sore. We shouldn’t do this.” Christine shook her head. “There’s nothing more that I want in the world than to have you inside me.” Drake eased his hard dick inside of her, and she managed to take most of him by straddling his lean hips. “I’m glad because there’s no other place I want to be.” **** Christine knocked on Lou’s door with David’s file in her hand, the blood hammering inside of her ears. Her sex, pleasantly sore, still throbbed from the wonderful night before. Her thighs clenched slightly to ease the pain. Hopefully, Drake would give her a day or two reprieve to heal. She paused at the door. How could she tell Lou that vampires ran rampant in the city? Even with Drake’s words and his demonstration of his healing powers as well as teeth, she wasn’t entirely convinced herself. Too many questions still needed answering. “Come in,” he said in a low tone and waved her in with a pudgy hand. She stepped inside and closed the door, perching herself in a chair just beyond his desk. He glared at her. “Got the files?” She dropped the file on Lou’s desk with a casual flick. “Something’s going on here.” His grizzled gray eyebrows arched. “What do you mean?” “Look at the autopsy photos. Those aren’t David.” Lou picked up the manila folder and opened it. He leafed through the photos, his eyes narrowing and stretching as if he could believe what he saw. “You’re right. This isn’t David.” She tightened her fingers around the arms of the chair. “I know. That’s why I need to find out what happened to him. He’s out there, somewhere, hurt or injured and may need help.” Lou leaned back in his chair and perched his elbow on the cheap metal desk, his thick fingers supporting his chin. His chair groaned its displeasure at having to support him. “This does make a difference, but you still won’t be on the case.”


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Christine shot out of her chair. “Come on, Lou! This is ridiculous.” “It’s the department’s rules, not mine. You’re too close to the case, so that’s why you can’t be part of this.” Christine pounded a fist on the desk. A thin rattle of metal echoed through the hostile, stale air. “Bullshit on departmental rules! I know David best, and I should be the one to find him.” Lou shook his head. “I’m sorry, but this is it. You’re a hell of a detective, Christine, but I can’t have you going rogue. On the record, you’re not to be near this case.” He leaned forward so no one could over hear him over the glass box of an office. “Off the record, what you do on your own is your own business. You’ll be on leave for a few more weeks. What you do is up to you.” Lou patted her hand. “Know what I mean?” Christine took a deep breath and calmed her already tense nerves. He’d practically given her his blessing to go ahead and continue. “Yes, I do,” she said and stood. “Thanks for all your help.” Lou rose too and shook her hand. “Get some rest on your ‘vacation,’ and we’ll see you back in a few weeks.” She gave him a warm smile. “It’ll be good to be back.” With that, she spun on her heel and exited the department through the side door. Relief flooded her, and she relaxed a bit. Her investigation could continue without any problems. Christine reached her Mustang only to discover five women standing around, talking among themselves. Who were they? The closer she came, the more she realized they were the women from Drake’s vampire family. The woman with the long black hair turned toward her and waved excitedly. “Christine! Glad to see you!” She approached carefully and stared at the woman, not sure what to think of this. She kept her distance. “I’m sorry I don’t remember your name. I’m so awful with them.” The woman approached and hugged her warmly. “Don’t worry about it. I’m Alex, short for Alexandra. Siobhan, Gabrielle, Tatiana, and Liz are with me.” Instantly, she was able to put the faces to the names. “Glad to meet you outside of a noisy club.” “I can’t agree more.” The plump Liz sighed. “Raphael doesn’t care for clubs that much, thankfully.” She smiled. “What are you ladies up to?” “Well, we thought you’d like to spend the afternoon with us at the spa. Drake’s treat.”


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Surprise surged through Christine, her belly clenching. “I—don’t know—” she stammered. What if Drake hadn’t told them that she knew their secret? Siobhan spoke up this time and touched Christine’s shoulder. “Drake told us he let you in our little secret. We aren’t going to hurt you because you belong to Drake and we’re a family. We protect our own.” Christine’s guard dropped and so did her rigidity. “I’m sorry. I was so scared that all of you would be upset.” “Not in the slightest,” Tatiana answered and tossed her silver-blonde braid behind her left shoulder. “The only thing we ask is that you don’t let others know about us, or we’ll be hunted like animals.” Christine allowed a nervous titter of laughter to escape. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I do have one question. Why do you want to go to the spa?” Gabrielle gave her a hug. “Even though we’re vampires, we’re still girls and like to do girly things.” “But I thought—” Alex spun her around and guided her to the sleek black stretch limo waiting in the parking lot. “Come on. All of your questions about us will be answered today.” **** Christine stood before Drake’s massive mansion, looking at the huge front door. The limo dropped her off at his request, why she wasn’t sure. The ornate walnut door opened to reveal an elderly gentleman on the other side. “Welcome, Miss McCall. Mr. Haaken is waiting for you in the study.” “Thank you.” She looked around. “Can you point me in the right direction?” “Down the hall, last door on the right.” She nodded at the older man. “Thanks again.” Christine walked down the long hallway, the sound of her low heels muffled by the rich crimson carpeting. She halted at the door and raised a hand to knock. “Come in, Christine,” Drake’s rich baritone voice said before she could even knock. She opened the door and stepped inside the sumptuously decorated room of crimson silk and dark mahogany. “How—how are you?”


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Drake gave her a lusty smile and stood. He strode over to meet her. “Is this any way to greet your lover?” Confusion and doubt swirled in her mind, a very dangerous mix of emotion. “I’m sorry. How should I greet you?” “Like this.” With that, Drake swept her into his arms and bent her backward, plowing her mouth with furious abandon. His hunger for her ignited the newly sleeping fire of desire. Flames immediately licked up her insides and threatened to consume her. His cologne sent her mind reeling with passion. He broke the kiss and helped her stand up. “Now that’s the way to greet me in the future.” “I’m glad you asked me to come here because we need to talk.” “About what,” he asked as he fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. She pushed his hands away. “Please, I have to say this.” Daunted, he stood back and crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed. “All right. I’m listening.” Christine wavered all day on what she wanted to say to him. On one hand, she couldn’t see herself with anyone else, but on the other hand, he was immortal and she wasn’t. She would be dead eventually—unless he decided differently. “I don’t think a relationship between us can work.” “Why not?” She turned her back on him. “Lots of reasons, one of which is that you’re a vampire and I’m human. I’m destined to die after a time, and you’ll be all alone. I can’t and won’t do that to you or anyone.” His hands slipped around her waist and drew her back against his strong form. “Is this way of saying you care for me?” “Yes, it is. I do care for you, Drake, and it’s because of that I won’t put your through an eternity of being alone.” Drake cupped her breasts, his thumbs skimming her nipples. “It doesn’t have to be. You could be one of us.” She bowed her head. “I don’t know. I can’t kill people.” Brushing her hair aside, Drake swept a soft kiss on her neck. “Oh, my dear, you have so much to learn! We don’t kill, just take what we need, that’s all. For those of us who are older, we need


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less than the young ones. So we don’t feed quite as often.” She tensed in his arms and she fought the urge to flee. “So I would have to kill.” “You wouldn’t have the strength. I would do that for you if necessary.” Christine lifted her head. “No, I couldn’t do that.” She spun around in his arms. “Please don’t ever make me one against my will.” Lust blazed in his eyes. “I would never do anything against your will. You would have to be willing for me to make you a vampire. I wouldn’t do it otherwise.” Christine laid her head against Drake’s magnificently sculpted chest covered with a cool black silk shirt. “Thank you for your promise, and I’ll hold you to it.” Drake skimmed her hip. “Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, there’s another matter I’ll have to tend to.” She knew what he wanted but right now, she was just too full of raw emotion to consider sex. She pushed away. “Not right now. I have to get home. Can you call me a cab?” Drake frowned and picked up his keys. “A cab? Please. I’ll drive you.” “You really don’t have to do that.” “I want to.” He guided her out of his study and to his waiting silver Jaguar. “I can show you something while we’re there.”

Chapter Eight “What’s so imperative that you had to be home right away?” Drake asked as he followed her into her apartment. She tossed her keys into the glass bowl near the door. She kicked off her shoes and picked them up. “Just a few things I need to go over about David.” He stopped her dead in her tracks. “I want you to stop investigating David’s death.” “Why?” “It’s become entirely too dangerous for you to do so.” She wrenched herself free from his grip and walked down the hall to her bedroom, keeping her anger in check. She remained silent, hoping it would convey her displeasure at his words. Drake followed her like a stray dog looking for a meal. He stayed in the doorway and leaned against the jamb, his massive arms crossed. “Well, aren’t you going to argue with me?”


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She removed her jacket and hung it up. “What for? You think you’re right, and I think I’m right. I’m not in the mood for an argument.” She didn’t lie. She’d been tired all day, probably because that great massage at the spa really relaxed her. “Besides, no matter what you say or think, the investigation is going ahead.” “Be reasonable. After what happened the other night, you still want to continue this?” She bent and removed her skirt and took off her blouse. She stood in her lace teddy in front of him but she didn’t care. He’d already seen her naked. “Yes, I do. Once it’s finished, then I can go back to being a cop.” He sighed. “I suppose there’s nothing I can do to talk you out of this.” She lifted a leg to remove her thigh-high stocking. Drake dimly groaned, so she slowed her action, teasing him immensely. “No, you can’t, though you can still help me.” Drake pushed up from the jamb and was on her in two strides. She read the lust in his smile and the desire in his eyes as plainly as she read a billboard. He knelt in front of her and hooked his fingers in the elastic of her stocking, slowly drawing the silky expanse down. He removed with the nylon with a flourish and threw it aside. Slowly, he kissed and nibbled up her smooth leg, massaging her calf with his strong fingers. Christine dropped her head back and enjoyed the magic of his mouth as he worked his way up her thigh, kissing every inch of the inside. Soft snaps erupted as he undid her teddy. She creamed for him, her knees weakening. Drake touched her quivering pussy and deeply groaned. He traced the outer edges of her drenched labia with his expert tongue. The walls of her sex clenched in anticipation of his kiss and touch. He moved in closer and spread her lips apart, baring the tender flesh to his exploration. He blew softly against her swollen clit, making the nub harder than before. Just as she was about to beg him to do more, he closed his mouth over her mound. Rocking, she pressed her hips into his face as he lapped at her juice. Flick. Suck. Flick. Suck. She teetered on the brink of an orgasm, ready to fall over at any moment. Her nipples burned to be touched, and she couldn’t help herself. She cupped the full globes and pinched the taut peaks until the skin pebbled with delight. The long-awaited orgasm unfurled in her belly, a slow burn threatening to consume her. She moaned in ecstasy, pushing herself harder against his face, silently begging for a deeper penetration.


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Suddenly, Drake pulled back, his lips wet. “Get on the bed on all fours,” he commanded. Christine immediately obeyed, waiting for his hard cock to satisfy her aching pussy. “Lower your head as much as you can,” he said. The sound of his zipper descending filled the air, making her more aroused. She’d never had sex in this position before. Christine pushed down, her head nearly to the bed. Drake cupped her pussy and lifted her slightly. “That’s good.” How strange it felt to be in this position, to be available for his use. Drake’s cock slipped in easily, stretching her to the limit. Instantly, her channel gripped him tightly. Grabbing her hips, he held on and fucked her as if his life depended on it. Christine gripped the bed and cried out into the mattress. The feelings crashed one into another, a wild wave of orgasmic emotion. She rocked her hips forward, milking his cock in an attempt to drain the organ of every ounce of come. Drake groaned when she did that, so she managed to keep in time with his thrusts, her mind a mess of climatic delight. “Oh, hell, I’m coming again!” she screamed into the bed, trying to hang onto the last shred of reality she had. Bursts of bright light exploded in her brain as the orgasm took hold. She rocked with his thrust and held tight. Drake shuddered, descended on her neck and clamped down, sending her orgasm into overtime as he drank her blood. Holding on, he kept her steady as he jerked in an effort to empty his large cock inside of her. “Oh, my God, that was un-fucking-believable,” she murmured into the bed. Drake leaned against her, still fully inside. “You, my dear, are the wonderful one.” He slipped out. “You really are something.” She collapsed. “I think I need to take a shower.” “Good idea.” Drake helped her to her feet. “You lead the away.” Christine almost set a foot outside her bedroom door when Drake stopped her. “Ever have sex in the shower?” “No?” “Good. Consider this a first.” ****


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Drake had wanted to spend the night, but she couldn’t let him. The longer he stayed around her, the more attached she found herself becoming. His allure was too strong for her to ignore anymore. Once he left, she settled into bed, flipped on the light, and started to read a romance novel she’s been waiting to read for months: Untamed Fire. It looked good in the store, especially since the hunky blond cover model on front look amazingly like Drake. She flipped to the first page and started to read. The writing flowed so easily and kept her up quite late because she couldn’t put it down. Christine glanced at the clock. One. Damn, she’d started at eleven. Where had the time gone? Oh well, it wasn’t like she had anywhere to go tomorrow. It was only Thursday, and her best chance of getting some more info at Berserker would be Friday and Saturday nights. Her lights flickered. She sat straight up. What the hell? Christine waited for flashing to start again. Didn’t happen. Okay, it might be her imagination toying with her again. She settled back in bed and the moment her head hit the pillow, the lights went out. “I paid my fucking electric bill,” she muttered and pushed out of bed to go and see if anyone else’s electric was out. David’s voice echoed from the darkness of her bedroom. “Don’t leave me, Chrissy. I need help.” She spun on her heel. “Where are you, David?” “I’m right here,” he said from the shadowy recess of her wardrobe. “Please help me.” Fear shook the very foundation of her soul, but she fought to control her emotions. “How did you get there? You weren’t there when I turned out the lights.” “I-I—don’t know,” he answered in a strangled whisper. “Come into the moonlight,” she coaxed. A distinct shuffling pierced the air as he moved. Brushing of feet against her carpet followed, giving additional rise to already high wall of terror. “I don’t want you to see what they’ve done to me.” His shadow blocked out all of the available moonlight. She didn’t need to see his face exactly, but she knew it was him. Christine embraced him hard and, so glad to be holding him again, pushed aside the stink of earth and mold. “I knew you weren’t dead.”


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“I wish they had killed me.” His damp, wounded hands touched her face. “I fought my way back here to be with you.” “Oh, David, I’m so glad you’re alive!” Tears pricked her eyelids. “Start at the beginning and tell me everything.” “There isn’t much to tell because I don’t remember much. After the ambulance took me to the hospital, I remember a nurse giving me a shot. Then it was lights out. When I woke up, I was in a dark place and was tortured to feed someone’s dark, sadistic desires.” “Did they tell you why they did this to you?” She caressed the side of his face and noticed the deep wounds, probably a few weeks old, in the process of healing. “Yes, but there’s no time to tell you what they told me. They’re hunting me as we speak, and I have very little time, but I will need your help.” “Tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it.” “I want you to meet me at midnight on Saturday in WarfieldPark near Gorwich Pond. I’ll tell you everything then, and you can help me get somewhere beyond their reach.” Her tears flowed. David was here and alive needing her help, and she was damned well going to give it to him. “You’ve got it. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.” David brushed a kiss across her cheek with his crack lips. “I knew I could count on you, my dearest Chrissy.” He looked pensively out the window. “I’ve got to go because I don’t want them tracking me to you. If they find out what I’ve told you, you’ll end up like me, and I couldn’t stand that.” “I’ll meet you then.” “Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, not even that big Viking-looking boyfriend of yours. No one can know.” She embraced him again and held fast to him. “I won’t. Drake won’t know, I promise. Besides, he’s not my boyfriend.” “As good as. I’ve seen you two together, and he is very protective of you.” Her brow rose. “How have you seen us?” “I can’t explain now. I will later. I’ve got to go.” He went to the window and climbed out. “Remember, midnight on Saturday.” Christine watched him fall to the ground and limp away into the shadows, becoming one with the night.


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She turned away and leaned against the sill, her thumb against her lip. Tears flowed. Finally, her persistence paid off. David was alive and needed help to get beyond the reaches of his captors. Drake be damned, she was going to help him. **** Saturday night approached, filling Christine with anticipation. She should go to Berserker and act as though she was doing her investigation to throw Drake off the track of her activities. At least, he’d know anything was amiss. The loud ring of her phone interrupted her thoughts, and she looked down at the caller ID. Drake was on the other end, wanting to speak to her. She hesitated then picked up the on the third ring. “Hi, sweetheart. What took you so long to answer?” She sighed and said in a sarcastic tone, “I guess you think I’m sitting here living and breathing just for your phone call.” “Such sharp words come off your tongue. Maybe I should show you how to properly use that tongue.” “You already have,” she answered back, her hostility waning. She wanted to be mad at him for making her want him so badly, but she couldn’t be, at least not now. “What’s up?” “Are you coming to the club tonight?” His voice contained a ring of sexual excitement, enticing her body to react. Instantly, her pussy convulsed at the thought of being pinned against a wall and fucked senseless by him. “Absolutely. I have an investigation to conduct.” “Good. Also, when you dress, forget the underwear.” “Why?” “You never know.” “I can’t do that.” “Yes, you can, and it’s my wish that you don’t.” A beat passed. “We’ll see.” “There’s no seeing about it,” he said harshly. “If I don’t want you to, you won’t.” “Getting a little pushy, aren’t we?”


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“Let’s just say I like easy access to what belongs to me.” “Hey, now, we discussed this—” Click. The line went dead. Damn, why did he always hang up right before she could argue anything with him? She hated when he did that. Christine pushed off her bed and went to her closet. To serve him right, she should wear a pair of old jeans, a T-shirt, and flip-flops, but she wouldn’t do that. His command sent shivers down her spine, and she had to admit she harbored secret desires to have a man dominate her, not in the S/M sense but in the sense he told her not to wear underwear and her pussy belonged to him. She’d never tell anyone that, lest she be thought of as easy. She had never mentioned this to Jason because he dominated her in ways she didn’t care for. Her pussy continued to quiver as she searched through her closet for something to wear. She found a purple tunic minidress with a matching belt. She didn’t care for the fact the hem fell midthigh but she couldn’t do anything about it. Drake wanted her to wear something spectacular, and this was the closest she could find. Christine stared at the full-length mirror and played with her hair, trying to decide which way to wear it. She finally decided on a soft updo with soft tendrils falling around her face. She smiled. A kind of a sexy, but innocent, look should bode well tonight and keep Drake from suspecting anything. **** Christine arrived in her usual fashion, with Michael waiting to take her car and park it safely. She marched past the hangers-on waiting to get in, only this time, no catcalls ensued. They must have assumed by now she was with Drake and nothing they did or said would get them the same VIP treatment. She barely set foot inside the door when a doorman accosted her. “Mr. Haaken wishes to see you right away.” “He can wait a moment.” She spotted Liz, Gabrielle, and the others huddled in a massive booth. With a confident stride, she made her way over. Greetings went all around. “You look fab!” Liz exclaimed, her wide green eyes shining. “I think the spa did wonders for you.” “Didn’t do too badly for you, sexy,” her husband, Raphael, said as he slid his arm around Liz’s shoulders and pulled her protectively close. . He leaned in and whispered in Liz’s ear, her eyes lighting up. Whatever he said made her grin from ear to ear. “If you’ll excuse us, Liz has something she needs to talk to me about.” He got up and gave Liz a hand. Together they walked through the crowd, his hand lovingly on


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his wife’s ass. The girls chuckled. “That’s they’re little code they’re going to find somewhere to have wild sex,” Alex offered cheerfully. Christine blushed and slid into the vacated seat. “Oh, Alex. You shouldn’t say such things.” Alex’s full lips spread wide. “If I don’t, who will?” “Same old Alex. Always up to something.” Gabrielle sighed and turned to Christine. “Ignore her. She’s the perv of the group.” “Hey, I resemble that remark!” Siobhan leaned forward. “We know you do.” She noticed the only absent ones were Nicholas and Tatiana. “Where are the others?” “Probably doing the same thing as Liz and Raphael.” Gabrielle brushed a hand through her wild red curls. “If I had a mate, I’d probably be screwing my brains out as well.” “Me, too,” Siobhan interjected. “You two are drags sometimes,” Alex said in a huff. “Come on, girls. Let’s go and mingle. She needs to see Drake.” “How did you know?” Alex shot her a hard look. “We’re family, and there isn’t much Drake doesn’t tell us. You’d best go and see him. He hates to be kept waiting.” The girls left the booth with a spring in their steps, joined the crowd on the dance floor, and gyrated to Madonna’s latest song. She waited for a minute then stood. No sense in putting off the inevitable. Christine went through the hallway door and down to Drake’s office. She raised her hand to knock but didn’t. Hell, if he wanted to see her so badly, she was going to just go in and not bother with the niceties. She walked in only to see darkness covering every inch of the room. Shards of moonlight glinted on the crossed swords on the wall, the blades appearing wickedly lethal. “Drake?” she called out. “Where have you been?” he said from the dimness of the shadows. The distinct creak of leather gave away his position on the couch. “I’m not at your beck and call, Drake.”


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“Come over here. I’ll need to punish you for your lateness.” Lust and desire mingled with bits of fear nipped at her spine, making her want to go and stay put at the same time. “If you want me so badly, then come and get me.” “Gladly.” Leather creaked again, indicating his rise. Hard thumps of his boot heels across the wooden floor kept time with the erratic strain of her heart. She swallowed the lump of anticipation in her throat. “Remember, this is going to hurt me a lot more than you.” “I doubt that,” she said in a shaky voice. “Wait and see,” he murmured. He moved up behind her, circling her waist with his strong hands. “Hmmm, what punishment should I rain down on you? Something sinfully wicked.” His voice melted her insides and made her pussy ache with longing. “Oh, Drake,” she murmured the moment his magic hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples. She reached up behind her head and circled his neck with her arms. Much to her surprise, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, his naked skin against the back of her tunic dress. “God, how I want you.” “Not until you’re properly punished,” he whispered. He skimmed down her hips to the hem of her dress. Taking her earlobe in his mouth, he suckled the tender lobe, his left hand sneaking underneath the edge of the fabric. Drake stroked her belly for a second and drifted down to her hungry pussy. He found her tight channel, already drenched with juice. He drew in a sharp breath as he captured her clitoris between his forefinger and thumb and massaged the bit of pleasure flesh back and forth. “That’s it, come for me,” he urged with a soft breath into her ear. Christine bent her knees to give him better access. He slipped his thick fingers inside her and pumped them in and out. “Don’t tease me anymore,” she moaned. “I need you inside of me.” “What part of me do you want?” “Your big, hard cock,” she groaned as his stroking increased. “I think you’ve been punished enough.” Drake withdrew his fingers and swept her into his arms, her lips immediately going to nuzzle his neck. Drake had them over the couch in several long strides. He sat down and swung her around in his lap so that she straddled him.


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She was a bit surprised. “I thought you’d want me to lie down.” “I’m your teacher, remember? This is something I think I know you’ll like.” Somehow, he’d freed his hard dick from the confines of his jeans. Taking the thick rod in one hand, he teased her dripping slit with the head. “You want this, don’t you?” “Oh, God, yes,” she begged, poising herself for his entry. “Take me in, baby.” Christine eased herself on his wide organ, impaling herself on it to the hilt. She took as much of him as she could, the feeling of being full of him sent her mind into a tailspin. Drake guided her hips as she rocked against him, gripping his member deeply embedded inside her. “That’s it, baby. Ride me.” She pumped him hard, holding him hostage as she moved. Drake groaned, and the pressure of his fingers digging into her hips increased. She fucked him with wild abandon, the familiar burn of orgasm igniting within. Christine pushed herself further than possible, her body crying out for release, not just for herself but for him as well. Her brain exploded in blast of fireworks as her much anticipated and needed climax was ready to wash over her. Drake pulled her close and sank his teeth into her neck, drinking the hot potent of her blood so he could feel the full effect of hic climax. She cried out as her orgasm blew, followed by a deep grunt from Drake as he came inside her. “I don’t think I can take much more of this,” she said with a hitching breath, still trembling. “You can, and I’ll make sure you will,” Drake murmured and licked the healing wound in the side of her neck. “You do definitely taste divine.” **** Drake took another small lick from her neck and noticed the subtle change in the vital liquid. Why had it suddenly change? Oh, dear God, it couldn’t be! He’d been told that those special ones existed only in legend, not in real life. Could it be Christine was one of the Nosferim bearers? He shook his head. It couldn’t have possibly happened. He eased her off his lap and laid her gently aside. “Are you all right?” Christine’s breath continued to labor but only for a minute before settling into a normal rhythm. “Other than being made to feel like rubber, I’m okay.”


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He frowned. Her period was late by a few days, that much he knew. He’d had enough women over the years to know when their cycles came on by the taste of their blood. Christine’s was entirely different. Best not to scare her with possible revelations. “Good. Are you going to investigate tonight?” “Um, not like this. I think I’d better go home and shower again.” “I think I’ll join you.” Christine bolted straight up. “I don’t think now’s a good time. I’m not feeling every well.” Another good sign. “Are you nauseous?” “Just the last day or so. It’s just my sinuses acting up.” He frowned. “I think I’d better take you to my house until you’re better.” Her nervous gaze darted around the dark. “What time is it?” Drake lifted his wrist and flicked the button on his watch to light up the face. “Eleven forty-five. Why?” She paled. “No reason. I’m feeling kinda tired, and I think I really need to get some rest.” “You will at my house.” “Not with you, I won’t,” she said with a bit of throaty laughter. His cock twitched. “Can I take a rain check?” “Of course,” he said mildly. She was up to something and he needed to find out what, especially if she was carrying his baby. Closing his eyes in the dark, he searched her mind and found the answer he was searching for. She was to meet David at midnight in WarfieldPark to discuss her aid to him. Damn, Zakara would stop at nothing to kill Christine! Christine stood and pulled her dress back down, the sweet perfume of spent desire echoing from between her legs. “I’m going to go ahead and go, but I’ll call you later.” He stood quickly, tucking himself back into his pants. “Tonight, I hope.” She covered her smile with a hand. “I forgot you don’t sleep at night.” “I want you to call me the minute you get home.” “Okay, Daddy,” she said with a sarcastic grin. He returned one back. “I’ll be waiting.”


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Once she left, he changed into his hunting attire and summoned the others who appeared as quick as a flash. “You called?” Raphael said with a grin. “I need everyone’s help. Christine is going to meet David tonight, and I fear Zakara will try and kill her.” He held back the information about the baby for now. If the others discovered that there are bearers of the Nosferim in existence, they might be upset. Alexandra stepped forward and touched his arm. “Whatever you need us to do, we’ll do.” Maybe he should tell them the news. “Does anyone remember the stories about the Nosferim bearers?” “Yes,” Nicholas interrupted. “But those are only stories and legends, nothing real.” Drake grinned. “Not necessarily. I think I may have found one.” A collective gasp went up around the group. “You don’t mean Christine—” “I believe she’s pregnant. When I tasted her blood, I detected a slight change, a taste more vampire, and I’ve never shared my blood with her. I believe she’s carrying my child.” Alexandra slumped into a nearby chair and rubbed her temples hard. “I don’t believe it.” Tatiana tapped Nicholas on the shoulder. “Forgive me, my love, but I’m afraid I’ve never heard of this tale.” Nicholas brushed a kiss across his wife’s porcelain cheek. “The story goes that certain men and women exist who can breed with vampires and produce the Nosferim, the half-human, halfvampire offspring who are immortal like us but can do things humans can like eat, sleep, and walk in the sun. They do require blood on occasion, especially during sex. They have limited powers but are able to walk the line between mortality and immortality.” “Oh, I see,” Tatiana said. “I hope everyone does not think me a simpleton.” Alexandra lifted her head. “So if she’s a bearer, then there might be Nosferim seeders in existence.” “Quite possibly,” Drake said, shifting from one foot to another. “We’ll discuss all this at a later time. I need to follow Christine to see what she’s up to.” **** Christine wove her Mustang carefully through the traffic to WarfieldPark. Part of her felt a bit guilty about not telling Drake, but this wasn’t his business. It was hers, and besides, he probably would have talked her out of coming tonight.


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She stopped at a red light. The musky scent of desire filled the car, immediately making her regret not taking the time to go home and shower. She hoped David wouldn’t mind. Christine guided the nose of her Mustang down the long, narrow drive through the park, barely lit by the orangey glow of the inefficient streetlights. She turned into a parking space near the pond and killed the engine. She glanced at the clock in the car. Midnight exactly. Time to meet David. Christine climbed out, purse in hand and began a slow trek to Gorwich Pond. A solitary figure on the dark bench faced the water, no movement at all. She took a tentative step forward, inching open her purse with her fingers and reaching toward her gun. “David?”

Chapter Nine The figure on the bench slowly turned around. A smile spread across David’s lips. “You came without that burly boyfriend of yours.” “He’s not my boyfriend,” she interjected and sat down next to him on the weathered bench and admired the moon dappled waters of Gorwich Pond. “Lover then.” “Whatever,” she said with a sigh. “How are you?” “Okay for the moment, but they’re on the hunt for me and won’t rest until they find me.” “Who’s looking for you?” “You’d never believe me if I told you.” He swiped at his injured nose. “Try me.” His mouth and eyes drooped into a sad expression. He cast a sideways glance at her. “Do you believe in vampires?” Christine relaxed against the bench. Now wasn’t the best time to tell David she’d been sleeping with one on a regular basis. “Yes, I do.” “That’s who’s been chasing me. They’ve kept my blood at a minimum, making it difficult for me to escape.” Stunned disbelief surged. “How did you get away?”


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“I befriended the vampire whose job it was to keep me drained. She would lie to her leader and tell her that I’d been subdued.” Christine’s mind whirled from what he said. “Did they give you any reason why they held you captive?” David shook his head sadly. “No, they didn’t. The wanted something from me, but I wasn’t sure what it was.” She slid her arm around David’s shoulders and drew him close despite the biting smell of body odor surrounding him. “It’s okay. We’ll get you somewhere safe.” David laid his head on her shoulder. “You’ve been with him recently, haven’t you?” She stiffened. “Who?” “That big, Viking-looking boyfriend of yours. You were with him tonight.” He jerked up and looked at her with wide eyes. “You’re one of them!” Confusion surged. “I’m not a vampire!” He bolted to his feet. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Look, there’re a few loose ends I must tie up before I can go into hiding permanently. Will you meet me here in two weeks at the same time, same day?” She nodded. “Of course, I’ll be here.” “Remember, don’t tell anyone.” “Okay.” Before she could even open her mouth to say good-bye, David disappeared into the darkness, melting into the shadows and becoming one with them. She slumped on the bench and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her needs. Her situation quickly became convoluted at best, her loyalty torn between Drake and David. Dear God, she hoped she wouldn’t have to make a choice between them. Christine stood and took a step. Sudden dizziness overwhelmed her, and she grabbed onto the bench for support. Where did that come from? Her thoughts rolled on as she walked to the car, vacillating from helping David to when her period was due. She was supposed to start about a week and a half ago but hadn’t. She could set a clock by her periods. She slid into the Mustang and sat there, contemplating the implications. Vampires weren’t supposed to be able to sire children! This was absurd. It was just her worry and concern


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knocking things off course, nothing more. Still, she should probably take a pregnancy test just to ease her unquiet mind about the situation. **** Christine stopped at an all-night drugstore and picked up a pregnancy test. She wanted to do it right away, but she needed to wait until morning. All night long, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep because the morning’s anxiety. Please God, don’t let me be pregnant. Morning came far slower than she wanted, but it came nonetheless. Unable to stand the suspense, she went into the bathroom, did the test, and let it sit on the sink to do its thing. The horizontal line showed up right away as the urine sample crawled its way across the window. She sighed with relief. She wasn’t pregnant. Christine grabbed the directions to read them again, to make sure she did it right. By the time she looked up, the vertical pink line showed up. Her blood turned to ice, and she picked up the test. Positive. She dropped it to the floor and gripped the sink for support. How in the hell did she get this creature inside of her? She walked back to her bedroom on shaky legs and sat down. This baby wasn’t a creature. It was a combination of her and its father, who was a vampire. Christine buried her face in her hands and began to cry. What in the hell was she going to do now? Drake’s comforting hands sliding over her shoulders brought her back around. She looked up to see his handsome face, which only brought on the tears even more. “What’s wrong?” “Go look in the bathroom.” Drake stood up and strode into the bathroom. He emerged a few minutes later with the test curled in a meaty fist, his eyes shining with excitement. “Is this what’s upsetting you?” She blinked hard to push away the running tears. “What do you think?” “I think it’s the best thing that could have happened.”


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She turned her face toward his. “How can you think this is wonderful? I’ve got some sort of creature growing inside of me.” He frowned. “Don’t call my son a creature.” Christine leaped around the room and paced like a caged animal ready to strike. Her fingers clenched at her side, flexing hard. “Why didn’t you tell me this could happen?” “Because I didn’t know myself, that’s why. “ He stopped her tirade and guided her back toward the bed where he sat her down. “You see, the only time a vampire and a human can make a baby is when the human is a Nosferim breeder or seeder.” “You’re saying I’m this Nos-whatever breeder?” “Nosferim,” he corrected. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” “There’s no mark or designation that tells anyone who or what you are. We don’t know until it happens. The breeders or seeders are extremely rare and are only thought to be part of legend. Apparently, you’re proof they’re not legend, and therefore, you’re extremely important to vampires.” Christine rocked back and forth on the bed. “So what’s going to happen to me?” “First, you’re leaving this dingy apartment and moving into my house where I can keep an eye on you at all times. After that, you’ll see Dr. Levin who deals with vampires pretty exclusively. She’ll see you through your pregnancy and deliver the baby.” “So in nine months, I’ll be giving birth—” Drake grinned. “Try three. A Nosferim birth is accelerated. When our son is born, he’ll look like every other newborn except that within a month, he’ll be the size of a two-year-old child. In two years, he’ll be a full-grown man.” Christine shuddered. “I—I can’t do this.” Drake lifted her chin and gave her a loving smile. “Yes, you can, and I’ll be by your side every step of the way.” She sat there for a moment, contemplating everything he said. She believed him, yet a modicum of fright still rumbled through her. She was so unsure. “I think I need to go to sleep.” Drake smiled and eased her into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. He lay down next to her and pulled her resisting body to his. Drake draped his arm around her waist and tucked it around her, his palm flat against her belly. “My dearest Christine, go to sleep.”


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She yawned. “Why do you have your hand on my stomach?” “To let our baby know I’m his father and that I’m here to protect him.” He kissed her temple. “Sleep. That’s an order. I don’t want my son to be deprived of rest.” “Yes, sir,” she replied in a surly tone and drifted off to sleep dreaming of the baby inside of her. What exactly would a human–vampire hybrid look like? **** Zakara lounged on a black velvet couch in the mansion she’d rented, stroking the sleek fur of the ebony panther at her side. The creature purred with quiet contentment, its sides heaving up and down at a rapid pace. The night had proved to be quiet, and she’d already fed. Several of her minions had fucked her nearly senseless, so that part of her body had been well satiated by them. What more could she ask for? Darkness, her favorite time, fell with the quickness of an army advancing on an enemy with only the moon falling. Slivers of light drifted through the window and landed on the soft fur of the panther, turning the silky hairs a silvery-blue color. “I have news, my Queen,” someone offered from the shadowy recess of the room. “Come forward, David,” she purred, keeping in with the cat’s deep sense of satisfaction. “Tell me of what news you speak.” David moved from beyond the confines of the dark void and stepped into a solitary beam of shimmering light through the window. “Christine is carrying his child.” Zakara jerked up, her fingers curling against the animal’s fur. The cat lifted its head for a moment then lay back down and continued its contented purring. “Are you certain?” “Yes. She smelled different than she usually did, and it wasn’t because she’d fucked him before she met me.” Those words gave Zakara pause for thought. She rubbed her hands together in fiendish delight while her brain turned on the possibilities. So Nosferim breeders did exist! If she could find herself a few breeders and seeders, she could turn out new minions by the thousands and breed a brand new army ready to take on the world and bring it to her knees. She would be Queen of all mankind, for hers would control the earth. Blood pulsed in her temple at the implications. “Is she willing to meet with you again?” “Yes.” Zakara resumed her place beside her cat. She nuzzled its warm neck for a moment, the thoughts in her head spinning in a chaotic whirl. “Bring her to me, for I have use for her.”


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David tilted his head in submission. “I will, my Queen, but I have one thing to ask of you.” “What is that?” “She’ll not be harmed in any way.” Zakara exuded her most confident and reassuring smile as she rose from her lounging position. With whisper-soft footsteps, she made her way to David and caressed the side of his face. “Of course not—at least while she has a purpose to me.” “I am begging you not to hurt her.” Fury bubbled inside, but she tamped down her rage for the moment. Best to keep her minions thinking she would honor her word. “I won’t, my darling child. She’ll want for nothing.” She put a hand on his shoulder and turned him toward the couch recently vacated by her beloved panther. “Come with me. I would like to show you something.” **** Christine awoke later in the day a bit tired but a little refreshed. Given her new condition, she phone Lou and explained she needed an extended leave of absence. “Why? Is there something wrong?” A ring of concern echoed in Lou’s voice but she couldn’t go into any specifics of anything. “No, it’s just that my nerves are very raw, and I think I’ll need to see a psychologist for a while to help me through David’s death,” she explained in a confident tone, trying not to alert Lou to any changes. “So I guess you’re not investigating it on your own anymore?” She exuded a fake sigh of resignation. “I never was. I thought I’d let that to the experts. I’ll be okay in a few months. Then I’ll be back to work.” “Are you sure? Is there anything I can do for you at all?” “No, I’ll be okay.” “If you need anything, you just let me know?” She was touched by his concern, but she couldn’t let on anything. “I will, I promise. When I get back, you’ll find a new and improved Christine McCall.” “I liked the old one just fine.” “See ya later.”


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She snapped her phone shut and folded her hands in her lap. “What else do you want to take with you?” Drake called from her closet as he busied himself packing some of her things. “I don’t care.” She was too tired and too defeated to argue about moving into his house. They’d had a huge argument, which Drake had silenced with excellent lovemaking. Still, she had reservations about moving in with him despite the fact she carried his child. Drake popped his head out the closet, his lips spread into a wide grin. “How about we take just a little and I’ll send the movers over to pack up the rest.” An odd restlessness took over her soul, and she started to pace again. He was picking away at her control, and while sometimes it could be a good thing, it wasn’t in this case. “You know, I really don’t want to move into with you. I like living here among my own things and having my own space.” Drake stepped out of her closet and strode toward her, every ounce of playfulness erased from his features. “I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be. If any of the others outside of our coven knew of your gift, they would stop at nothing to use it. You would be bred like an animal.” His eyes darkened. “I can’t and won’t let that happen to you. It’s best for you and our son to be under my protection.” Christine collapsed against him. What Drake said had a ring of truth. “All right for now. Maybe later we’ll make other arrangements.” He grinned. “I knew you’d see things my way.” **** Christine counted down the days until her meeting with David along with a plan on how to meet him without Drake finding out. So far, Drake dogged her every step, and not just in the house. She couldn’t leave without him. And if he couldn’t be with her, one of the others of the clan would be. She often wondered if Drake had cajoled the girls into taking her out everyday just to keep her from being bored or if they did it out of their own hearts. With what little she knew of vampires, it was hard to tell. Saturday night approached, making her anxiety rise higher along with her belly. So far, she’d grown to the size of a woman four months pregnant in just a few weeks. Drake delighted in rubbing her small belly all the time and feeling the baby kick inside of her. She barely got time to get used to one sensation before another one came along. “He’s moving around,” Drake said lovingly as they lay in his massive bed after making love. “How do you know it’s going to be a boy? Maybe it’s a girl.”


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Drake chucked her chin playfully and gave her a confident grin. “Because I produce boys, not girls.” Before she could retort, the baby gave another violent kick. She gasped. Drake raised in alarm. “Are you all right?” “Yes, your child is kicking me and not giving me any rest, much like you.” Drake rolled her on her side and immediately started rubbing the head of his cock against her drenched slit. “And I don’t intend to stop. Let me showing you something.” He slipped inside, lifting her leg slightly so as not to hurt her. Christine wasn’t sure how many mindless orgasms she could take, but she was willing to find out. Drake fucked her slowly this time, taking the time to make sure she climaxed well before he did. Her nipples blushed a deep pink with every caress of his caring hands closing over them. She couldn’t help crying out at the crescendo of one orgasm riding on top of another one, each one bigger than the last. Drake followed with a grunt and burst inside of her again. “I don’t know how, but each time with you gets better and better.” He rubbed her rising belly affectionately. “How’s my son doing?” She turned over and touched his angular jaw in a loving gesture. If she could get him to leave the house, she might be able to meet David and be back before Drake. “Hungry. He’d like some triple chocolate rocky road ice cream with lots of whipped cream and hot fudge.” Drake’s brow rose. “You do realize it’s almost midnight and there’re no stores open?” She kissed his forehead. “I know, but there’s has to be someplace open, Drake. Be a dear and get the baby some.” His deep, throaty chuckle filled the room. Throwing back the covers, he went into the shower and took a quick one. He seemed to be back in flash dressed with his wet hair drawn back into a long ponytail. “Thanks for doing this. I’m craving all sorts of things lately.” “So I’ve noticed. Doesn’t seem like I can keep anything in the house,” he said good-naturedly and drew on his boots. Rising, he grabbed his keys from the nightstand. “Triple chocolate rocky road with whipped cream and hot fudge?” “Oh yeah, and get something for yourself while you’re at it,” she joked. Blood was the only thing Drake consumed. He hunted at night sometimes, but only if another one of the clan


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agreed to stay with her. Even during sex, he refrained from biting her because he didn’t want the baby to go without. “Funny.” He bent and swept a kiss across her forehead. “Promise me you’ll not leave this bed and will be here when I get back?” She nodded. “I’ll be here.” His expression hardened while his eyes took on a menacing glow. “Promise.” “All right,” she snapped back, the fury beginning to rise. If she sent Drake on a long enough hunt, she’d be back before he even knew she’d gone. “I’ll be here.” “In that case, I’ll be right back with your ice cream, whipped cream, and fudge.” He stopped in the doorway with the hunger burning in his light pupils. “Oh, if I weren’t a vampire, I’d be showing you what hot fudge and whipped cream are really for.” “I know,” she said with a sigh, a sliver of unabashed delight dancing along her spine. He definitely showed her different uses for his tongue. “Hurry back, though. The baby’s really hungry.” “Back in a flash.” She listened to him stomp down the stairs and out the door with a whistle on his lips. Distantly, she heard the purr of the Jaguar engine then the wild sound of the slick machine revving. He took off and hopefully would be gone for a long while. Christine bolted out of bed and ran for the bathroom. Pinning her long chestnut curls up, she turned on the taps and took the quickest shower of her life. She pulled on an old pair of sweats along with a sweatshirt to hide her bulging belly along with her favorite Skechers. Grabbing her keys and cell, she bounced along down the stairs straight out to the Mustang amid the uneasy beat of her heart. Sliding behind the wheel, she sat for a moment and thought long and hard about her promise to Drake. He wanted her to stay here, under his protection. Right now, he was out looking for the ice cream she actually did want. He never asked that much out of her except her loyalty. How in the hell did this get so messy? Christine slammed her head against the wheel, her knuckles taking most of the impact. She wanted to go—hell, she needed to go and see David, but an entirely different emotion tugged at her. What was it? She relaxed into the deep leather seat and leaned her head back. She stared at the iridescent glow of the orange-colored streetlight near Drake’s house, watching the way the light turned everything it touched to a dark sepia glow. Her thoughts turned like cogs in a wheel mechanism, trying to rationalize every emotion inside of her. She shouldn’t have gotten as close as she had, but it was far too late to change that now.


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The baby inside her kicked again, a little harder this time. “All right, little one. I promised your father I’d stay put, and well, it looks like I’m going to.” Her child made her decision for her. She wanted to stay here, with Drake, and be safe. Somehow, she’d get a message to David and let him know that she’d find a way to meet him somewhere. Just as she opened the door, Drake nosed the Jaguar up the circular driveway in front of the house and stopped in front of the door. He killed the lights and got out with a huge plastic bag of everything imaginable. The black look of anger resumed its normal position, his eyes glowing with a dark red striation in the iris. Nips of fear attacked her resolve, but she remained staunch in her emotion and walked toward in a friendly stride. “What did you get me?” she asked, grabbing for the bag. Drake held the goodies far beyond her reach. “Where were you going?” She took a step back and crossed her arms, hoping this would ease his tension. “It was the strangest thing. After you left, I got this weird craving for a hotdog. Just as I got behind the wheel, it disappeared.” His anger seemed to inflate with the flare of his nostrils and the V-shape of his thick eyebrows. “Likely story. I specifically told you to stay in bed and I’d get whatever you needed. You could have called me on my phone.” She shook with her own out of control rage, but she tamped her emotions down for now. No good fighting with him outside. “I’m sorry I’ve injured your Viking sense of pride,” she said with a sarcastic tone, her fingers curling into fists at her side. “But it’s the truth.” She hated lying, but it would save her hide for now. His expression didn’t change at all. “Get in the house,” he commanded in a danger laden voice. “I want to talk to you.” She held any fear in check and walked into the house with Drake, swatting her ass in a somewhat playful yet an I-own-it sort of way. Drake stormed into the kitchen and put all the ice cream, hot fudge, and whipped cream away. She sifted through the bag and found he’d picked up nuts as well as cherries. She licked her lips. This would make a hell of a sundae. Once he finished, Drake laid a palm on her shoulder and spun her around to face him. “I know where you were going tonight and it wasn’t for any hotdog. You were going to meet David.” She tried to control her expression but it escaped her before she could stop it. “How did you know?” “I know a lot of things,” he said, his expression dropping a little. “There’s one thing you don’t know about David.”


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“He’s been kidnapped by a band of vampires who drain his blood to keep him weak. Yes, I know all that.” “But did he tell you they turned him into a vampire?” Christine raised her hand to her lips the minute Drake’s revelation hit her ears and her mind processed the words. How could this be? David did appear normal with no fangs or any indication he’d become a vampire. The only difference was he smelled like long decayed earth and mold…dear Lord, why didn’t she see it? “Oh, my God, I almost met him tonight because I thought he needed me.” “He does need you.” Drake’s big hands slid over her shoulders, and he pulled her against his hard, comforting form. “I think he knows about the baby, and if he knows, Zakara knows it as well. You’ll be valuable to her as a breeder.” Hot tears pricked the inside of her eyelids, a mixture of fear and hormones threatening to fall. She sniffed them back. “Why didn’t I see it before? The only thing different was that he smelled awful.” She paused for a moment. “How come you don’t smell like that?” Drake kissed the top of her head, his hands circling her waist before coming to rest on her rising belly. “What do I smell like?” “The way a hot and sexy man should smell.” His laughter rumbled through her. “I’m glad you think so. You see, the older a vampire is, the more the smell dissipates. I’m almost a thousand years old, so mine is long gone.” She twisted in his arms and cupped his chilly face in her hands. “You’ve never told me about your life during your time. You’d mentioned once before about having a wife and children.” **** Drake sucked in a breath, not that he needed to. It just seemed natural. He’d planned to tell Christine about Dagmar sometime, just not yet. The memories remained too near and dear to his heart to share. He closed his eyes against the raging debate in his head. Maybe the time had come to share just a bit. “I had a wife, Dagmar. She was my first true love and the prettiest girl of my village. I was the jarl with vast land holdings everywhere. I took her into my bed in my twenty-seventh year. She gave me five sons, two of whom were born dead. Before I became a vampire, she was pregnant with another one.” He turned away. How many times had he ventured back to the village after his rebirth only to find Dagmar had married the new jarl, his brother Ulif? He’d been enraged, but what could he have done then? He was no longer human, and no one would have understood his new nature.


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The soft feel of Christine’s fingertips against his cheek brought him back to the present and to the new joy she brought him. “Did you ever find out what she had?” “No, I didn’t.” He thought it best not to mention that Dagmar had married his brother. The last thing he needed was for her to feel sorry for him. He was not man to be pitied. “She moved on with her life, as did I.” “Can I ask you something?” He read the question in her eyes even before she asked him. “I battled against another band of invading Vikings bent on taking my village and my holdings away from me.” He paused. “We battled three days almost nonstop.” He lifted up his shirt. “See these scars?” Christine touched them with a feathery caress, igniting his senses. She bent and kissed every inch of the puckered skin, making his dick hard behind his jeans. “You got all these in that battle?” Drake titled his head. “Most yes, but one or two from boyhood. I remember I’d gotten a pretty good drubbing from a fellow Viking and I lay there in the ditch, waiting for death. Clutching my sword to my chest, I waited. I expected the beautiful Valkeryies to ride to me in their silver chariots and to escort me to the halls of Valhalla where I would sit at Odin’s table with my ancestors. I would die a warrior.” Christine laid her head on his chest and wound her arms around his waist. “Then this Zakara creature came and turned you into a vampire.” He smoothed her sable curls down. “She must have been watching the entire battle, picking and choosing who she wanted to turn.” “I take it you were the only one.” “No, I wasn’t, but I have no idea what happened to the others.” “So she enslaved you to her will.” “And her bed for a while. She wanted me to be her vampire king, but I refused. I wanted no part of her bloodthirsty violence.” Christine tilted her head back and looked up at him with genuine concern in her eyes. “But you were Viking. Well, actually you still are, and they’re the most bloodthirsty of them all.” “There’s a difference. We didn’t kill for sport. We killed to survive, just as we do now except we try to avoid the killing part.”


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**** Relief flooded Christine, and she relaxed against his big comforting body. She didn’t have to lie or figure out a way to see David. “Thank you for telling me that, but I’m still frightened of what Zakara will do to me if she gets a hold of me.” “She won’t. That’s why I won’t let you go anywhere without me for any reason. I may seem a bit overbearing, but there’s a reason for me to do what I’m doing.” “What’s that?” Drake lifted her chin. His smile returned, sensual and coy while the dark burn of emotions roiled beneath his eyes. “I love you, Christine McCall. I don’t know how or when it happened, but I have fallen in love with you.” Christine turned her face to the neatly wooded floor and closed her eyes. She searched the feelings she had inside. She wanted to be near Drake always because he made her feel safe and protected. He took care of her when she was sick or even when she was well. “Thank you,” were the only words she could choke out. She’d never told people that she loved them, including David. It wasn’t in her to say so. She returned to her former position and nearly kicked herself. Hurt and pain crossed Drake’s features, making his friendliness disappear, replaced by his former stoic mask. “I’m sorry, Drake. I didn’t mean it like that.” “No big deal. I was just testing you.” He retreated to another part of the kitchen and opened the giant fridge with tense movements. His jaw remained tight and his lips drawn into a taut line. Pulling out a carton of the ice cream, he started scooping the delicious treat into a bowl for her. “How much do you want?” A lump of regret and shame curled in her belly, killing her appetite for anything. Thankfully, the baby seemed to be asleep or else she’d be devouring the ice cream. “I’m going to bed.” She hurried from the room before he could say anything more. **** Drake scooped the ice cream back in the carton and shoved the human treat in to the freezer. He threw the bowl and scoop into the sink and slumped down at the table, his fingers massaging his temple. How could she just utter, “Thank you,” after his telling her that he was in love with her? He’d given her everything, including a baby, and didn’t ask for anything in return except for her love and loyalty. She couldn’t even give that. Damn, he should have waited until she confessed her feelings as well. Raphael’s voice echoed from the darkness. “Sounds like you’re drowning in your own misgivings. This isn’t like you.”


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Chapter Ten Drake lifted a brow at the appearance of his closest friend and ally. “You weren’t listening in again, were you?” Raphael shrugged and took the chair opposite. He wasn’t dressed in his hunting clothes but a pair of jeans, boots, and a denim shirt. “Never. I’m not the company perv. I leave that to Alex.” Raphael’s joke forced a grin from him. “Yeah, I guess.” Raphael leaned back in his chair and threaded his hands behind his head, his hooded eyes trained on Drake. “She’s gotten to you, and you’ve confessed your feelings before she was ready to.” Drake cupped his face with his hands. He wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable and weak at all. He’d always been the fierce warrior, ready, willing able to take on any challenge without a second thought for himself or his life. This time, the battle wasn’t physical but emotional, one he wasn’t ready to fight. “I really don’t want to talk about this, especially with you.” “I know the feeling my friend. Here’s what I suggest you do. Go upstairs and talk to her. You can’t go wrong in doing that.” Drake tried to make himself believe she used him for some purpose to her own end, but he couldn’t. Christine didn’t have a user bone in her body. She just didn’t know how to love. He’d have to teach her it was okay to be open and honest and to love. “You’re probably right, Raph.” He let a weary sigh escape. “Go do it before it gets too late.” Raphael stood and snapped his fingers, making his hunting clothes appear. “Now I need to go before my wife kills me. She’s been dying for Chinese tonight, and I don’t want to disappoint her.” He looked at Drake. “You’re not looking so good, my friend. When was the last time you fed?” “The other night,” he answered in a defeated tone. With Christine and the baby in his life, he wanted to be as close to them as possible in case she needed something as well as protect her from Zakara. Besides, in her delicate state, talking about his eating habits would not be the best thing for her. “I’m okay.” “Feed soon, Drake. If you’d like, I can find you a donor that can come here so you don’t have to leave.” He waved Raphael away. “I’ll keep that in mind. Go hunt and have a good time.” Raphael grinned. “We will.” He went to turn but stopped. “Oh, before I forget, Liz told me to tell you that she’d be happy to sit with Christine on nights when you need to feed.” “Tell her I said thanks and I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”


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Raphael gave him a salute before dissolving into a black mass of thick haze and disappeared through the window as quietly as he arrived. He loved his coven, but sometimes they intruded where they didn’t belong. He appreciated Raphael’s kind words, but he had to face this alone. Drake walked up the carpeted steps, his mind whirling on the words he’d use to talk to Christine. When he approached his door, he noticed she’d closed it. Instinctively, he raised his hand to knock. He pause then dropped his hand. It was his bedroom, damn it, and he shouldn’t have to knock. Pushing the door aside, he saw Christine lying in bed on her side facing the window, her breathing deep and even. She was asleep. Defeated, he walked to his side of the bed and slumped into the chair. He took off his boots, followed by his shirt. He leaned back and looked to Christine. Moonlight graced the angled planes of her face in a silvery light and gave her the appearance of an angel. Damn, she was beautiful. If only she could love him back. **** Christine awoke to the rumbling sound of thunder outside, her mind no clearer about her situation than the night before. After Drake’s declaration of love, she wanted so much to repeat those words to him, but her emotions tugged at her mouth and kept her silent. Why couldn’t the ghosts of her past finally go onto their rest? “Good morning,” Drake said in a low tone as he walked into the bedroom bearing a tray of eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes, along with orange juice and milk. “I thought you might be hungry.” She stared at the mountain of food on the tray he placed across her legs. “Breakfast in bed. What did I do to deserve this?” Drake lounged against the tester of the bed wearing a dark expression. “My son needs his nourishment even if you don’t want to give it to him.” Guilt nipped at her soul, dragging her heart down completely. “About last night—” Drake waved a thick hand. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s no big deal. I’m used to it.” She fought back the tears as pain crossed his face in rippling waves. “No, it isn’t fair that I didn’t say it back to you. I’m sorry.” An I-couldn’t-care-less look crossed the handsome features she’d come to adore and loved to caress at night. “Don’t worry about it. As I’ve explained before, I’m used to it.” The rollercoaster of emotions surged up and down, vacillating between anger and hatred for herself because she couldn’t summon the very words he had said to her. “That’s what I’m


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talking about. You shouldn’t be used to it—” Drake pushed up to his full height and shrugged. “No need to talk about this anymore.” He looked down at her tray. “Eat up or Mrs. Anderson will be upset.” She’d met his housekeeper a few times before, and she vaguely wondered if Mrs. Anderson knew her employer was a vampire. “Tell her I said thank you,” she said stiffly. “What are our plans for today?” “I’ve got a few business appointments. As for you, you’re not to leave this house.” “But I need to take care of a few things—” Drake shook his head in a dark, dominant manner. “Absolutely not. Anything you need, call me on my cell and I’ll pick up for you.” He bent down and picked up the keys to her Mustang from the nightstand on her side of the bed. She threw him a fiery stare. “Why are you taking my keys?” “Insurance,” he snapped and stuffed them into his pants pocket. “That way I’ll make sure you won’t go anywhere.” “Fine,” she retorted, trying not to think of the spare key in her wallet. “Take them. See if I care.” Drake’s expression darkened. “That’s the problem. You don’t.” She opened her mouth to smart off a reply, but he’d already gone, tromping down the stairs in an angry manner. She did care, a lot. Why couldn’t he see that? She cared more than she should, but she was sure she expressed it in so many ways, including having this baby inside of her. Well, that would change. She reached for her cell phone and called the local clinic and made an appointment for a consultation. Hot tears of shame and regret stung her eyes. Drake didn’t want her. That was plain to see. Why should she bring his baby into the world? **** “You say you’re about three months along,” the staid little doctor asked her at the clinic. “This ultrasound says you’re almost five.” “Um, it’s wrong. My period was almost three months ago,” she said, lying. The moisture dried up in her mouth as she fought back the tears. “When can you perform the abortion?” The doctor held up his small hands, the glint of a wedding ring on his left hand. “Now let’s just back up here a minute. Does the father know you’re here?” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m single and not ready to be a mother right now.” The


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baby kicked its displeasure at her contemplation of its termination. He leaned back and gave her a cool look. “Okay, here’s the deal. I can’t do anything for fortyeight hours to give you time to think this over. When the time’s passed, I’ll perform the abortion and you’ll never know you were pregnant.” He frowned. “Since the fetus is so large, we’ll have to do a more invasive procedure, so we’ll have to put you under a general. Can you arrange a ride home for yourself and someone to care for you for twenty-four hours?” She nodded. “See my nurse, and she’ll schedule the abortion for Friday. That’ll give you more than enough time if you change your mind.” Christine stood, clutching her purse at her side. “I won’t.” She gulped hard. “I want that man’s baby out of me.” The doctor nodded. “We’ll see you on Friday then.” Christine turned on her sandaled heel and hurried out of the clinic with hot tears streaming out of her eyes. This was just too drastic for her to do, especially when all she had to do was tell Drake that she loved him. She stood on the sidewalk in her billowing sundress in the burning sun deciding her baby’s fate. No, she wouldn’t have the abortion after all. She’d been too hasty in her decision. They could work things out and raise the baby, at least for the next two years until he or she grew to adulthood. She smiled. She’d get to see the little being inside of her grow to adulthood and get to know him or her and watch them develop into their own personality in two years, rather than eighteen. Well, her decision was made. She would cancel the appointment to have the abortion and confess everything to Drake. She hoped he would forgive her. The sound of screeching tires and the rev of an engine drew her attention away from the clinic’s pristine façade. She blinked in the noonday sun to see Liz’s convertible BMW screech to a halt at the curb. A pang of fear nipped at her spine. “Christine!” Liz called from the rolled-down passenger window. “Come quickly!” She hurried over and leaned into the handcrafted window, her forearms resting against the rich black leather interior. “Where’s the fire?” she asked causally, trying to bite back the sliver of fear surging through her. “Come with me,” Liz stated as she fumbled with her purse. “Drake’s been hurt, and he needs you terribly.” Her blood dropped to her feet. “What happened?” “I don’t know the specifics, but Raphael had me try to find you—fast.” Liz threw open the door. “Get in.”


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Without hesitation, Christine slid into the passenger side and closed the door. “What do you know?” Liz shook her blonde head. “I don’t know. Raphael as usual wouldn’t tell me a thing. I have a suspicion Zakara did something to him.” Christine fisted the hem of her sundress, pretending to wipe her sweaty hands. Anger flooded her, making her tremble. If Zakara harmed a single golden hair on Drake’s head, there’d be hell to pay. “What were you doing at the clinic?” Liz asked casually as she turned down the next block. Christine kept silent. How much should she tell Liz? “Nothing.” “You were going to have an abortion, weren’t you?” She paused. “Yes, but I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to have the baby and tell Drake I love him.” “Good idea,” Liz agreed. “Okay, we’ll be there in a minute.” The BMW zoomed down through the rest of town and headed toward interstate I-85. Fury mingled with her mounting fear for Drake. What did Zakara do to Drake to bring him near death? “Where is he?” Liz guided the nose of the BMW through traffic skillfully. “Shut up if you ever want to see Drake again.” Christine’s spine hardened as the fear pounded her. The woman sitting next to her wasn’t Liz. “Why are you doing this?” “Because I can,” the Liz thing said. “Also because I warned you about the way things are, but you didn’t listen to me.” Christine clutched her purse and inched her fingers to the door latch. If she could just open up and roll out into the highway, she could call Drake and he would come and get her. “You said you’d kill me.” Zakara morphed into her true form, complete with gauzy outfit and gem-studded crown. “I’ve changed my mind, for you’ll be of greater use to me—alive.” Her fingers inched closer to the latch, the cold metal under her fingertips signaling freedom was at hand. “What are your plans for me?” Zakara zigzagged through the lanes as if no other car existed, the honking of horns rising


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through the coming night. “I’ve got quite a few, bitch, one being my breeder.” Her breath hitched while her heart slammed in her chest. Drake was right! Zakara would use her until her body could produce no more Nosferim for the army the vampire queen intended to create. “I won’t do it.” “You will if you know what’s good for you,” Zakara snapped and flicked her long fingers toward Christine’s door. “You’ll stay still until we reach my lair.” The latch snapped shut, and Christine’s arms immediately went to her sides, pinned by some unknown force. She struggled against it, but she couldn’t do a thing. The magical spell Zakara had woven was far too strong for her to break. Christine could only look straight ahead at the coming night. Dark purple fingers spread like bruises across the sky in an effort to drown the vestiges of the dying sun. She blinked. Drake wouldn’t save her, especially once he knew what she’d planned. She was able to lower her head. She got exactly what she deserved. Drake, I’m sorry. I love you! Her mind cried. Always remember that. Christine focused on the road ahead, taking in the scenery around her. Drake had told her countless times that, since he’d drunk her blood, he held a special bond with her. “Do with me what you want, but don’t hurt the baby or Drake.” Zakara’s low, throaty laugh, full of menace and evil, filled the car. “Oh, I intend to but first, I don’t want you to see anything. The last thing I want is for Drake to find you—or what’s left when I’m through.” Christine’s vision clouded over and turned black. She wanted to cry or scream at the injustice, but with Zakara’s hold, she could do nothing. How in the hell was she going to get Drake to find her? Maybe, if he still loved her, she could provide the clues to her whereabouts she saw before Zakara took her sight—that is if he chose to come and claim her. **** “Drake, I’m sorry. I love you! Always remember that.” The moment Christine’s words drifted into his mind, Drake shot his head up from the plans he’d been going over with the architect who was designing his new club. “So you see, with the aesthetics here,” the architect pointed out on the stack of blueprints, “you’ll have the most unique club there is.” Drake closed his eyes and listened to every thought echoing through his head. He felt her fear and tasted the terror racing through her mind.


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“Show me more,” he commanded. Searching through the vast connective tissues of her brain, he discovered what he wanted. Liz pulled up to the curb in front of some clinic downtown, Christine bending in the window. Liz stated that he was hurt…his fists clenched as raw unabashed rage pounded against his system, causing a red haze to form in front of his eyes. “We’ll discuss this another time,” he snapped as he walked out. “My secretary will make another appointment for you.” He disregarded the architect’s protests, but he didn’t care at the moment. Christine and his baby were in trouble, and Zakara had a hand in it. Drake jumped into his Jaguar and flipped the key. The engine roared to life, and he sped off to his house. On the way, he dialed Raphael. “Meet me at my house and bring the others.” “What’s going on?” “Meet me there in five minutes.” He snapped his phone shut and drove carefully through the streets all the while trying to keep a lid on his emotions. Damn that bitch to hell! How dare she take what belonged to him? **** Raphael stared at the silent phone in his hand. Ending the call, he set the phone on the nightstand. Drake sounded odd, as if his emotions were running out of control. He’d never heard his friend like that. “Get up,” he ordered Liz, still not liking the ring of desperation in Drake’s normally controlled voice. “We’ve got to go to Drake’s.” Liz shot up, holding the covers up to her bountiful, naked breasts. “What’s going on?” Raphael bolted out of bed, drew on a pair of jeans, and slammed his feet into his boots. “I don’t know, and I don’t like it. Whatever the situation, I’m sure it has the stink of Zakara’s touch all over it.” Liz’s expression dropped. She shot out of bed and dressed with lighting speed. “What in the fuck are we waiting for? Let’s go!” He grinned. His Elizabeth. One thing he had always loved about her was her senses of loyalty and love. “You got it, sexy lady,” he said, swatting her on the ass playfully. His cock hardened and lengthened behind the metal zipper, becoming quite uncomfortable quickly. He grinned. Somehow, she always the power to excite him no matter what the situation.


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**** Drake zipped into his driveway and flew out of the driver’s seat, tossing the keys to Henry, his car caretaker. He stormed through the foyer down the hallway to his study. He stepped inside, fighting the urge to plant a fist through the wall while a million questions stormed his mind. What was she doing at the clinic in the first place? Did she think she would have an abortion and he not find out about it? He paced with the rigor of a tiger ready to pounce, his muscles tense and ready to snap at any moment. She’d better still be pregnant—or else. Drake stopped his pacing and closed his eyes. He connected with her and tested the rhythm of her body. Using his powers, he traveled down her veins and arteries until he reached the main artery into her uterus. His child lay nestled inside a protective bubble of amniotic fluid peacefully asleep, unaware of what was going on, its thumb firmly planted in its mouth blissfully. He fell to his knees on the floor. Dear God, she’d changed her mind. She is still pregnant. “What’s wrong?” Liz cried out the minute she entered the room. Immediately, she fell to her knees next to him and wrapped her comforting around him. “Christine’s still pregnant,” he said with a relieved sigh. “That means she still alive and Zakara’s got her somewhere.” “That bitch,” Alex grumbled the minute she came into the study. Dark flashes of rage raced across her countenance, and her full lips drew tight. “We should have killed her last time.” He slewed his head in Alex’s direction. “You know we can’t. She’s too strong, and with her father being Satan, he’ll destroy us all.” Drake bolted to his feet. “We’ve got to find her before it’s too late.” Nicholas laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Just cool your jets for a minute. What we need to do is find where Zakara’s taken her and figure out a way to get past her minions. Is your bond with Christine fairly strong?” “Oh, yeah. I locked onto her before and managed to see the baby, and I was able to taste her fear of the entire situation. Other than that, nothing.” “It’s a start,” Nicholas surmised. “Go and search her mind again. She’s a woman, not to mention a cop. They always memorize landmarks of some sort to get where they’re going. Maybe she’s memorized a trail for you to follow.” Drake dragged his shoulder out from under Nicholas’ hand, one fist pounding his open palm. He


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should have looked for those as well as checking on the baby. Damn it, how could he have been so stupid? “Give me a minute and I’ll have a bead on her.” He moved to the window and leaned against the jamb, closing his eyes. Using his increased mental capabilities, he pushed through the myriad of land, earth, time, and space. Normally, he’d be able to get a reading, but this time, dead air greeted him. If his heart had been beating, it would have stopped by now. Damn it, let me know she’s all right! he demanded of whatever god was listening to his plight. Unfortunately, nothing about Christine or her whereabouts came to light. Rage colored his vision, making everything appear red and hazy. He’d never been so angry in his life, not even when Zakara turned him against his will. He shook. That bitch had better not take another woman out of his life again, or so help him, he couldn’t be responsible for his actions against her. Liz’s sweet voice broke through his tense wall of thought and his berating. “What’s wrong?” “I can’t fucking get a hold on her,” Drake answered in a very controlled voice, his sanity almost coming into question. “That bitch must have a blanket spell on Christine to keep me from finding her.” “Do you remember anything when you went through her mind? Any pictures, landmarks, or anything?” Nicholas probed. Drake stopped his tirade and leaned against an overstuff leather chair, his head hung low. Closing his eyes, he thought back to his previous connection with Christine and desperately tried to remember anything other than the baby. There were her thoughts then the baby—he slammed his fist against the oxblood leather. “I’ve got it. There were a few things she briefly thought of, possibly markers of a trail she meant for me to follow.” “Tell us!” Drake’s anger dissipated like the slow melt of ice in the Norwegian spring. He had something in mind for Zakara. “In a minute, but I’ve thought of a way to punish Zakara and possibly bind her for quite a long time.” Raphael’s brow lifted. “We’ve tried that before, but somehow she manages to break through with the help of her father.” He glared at all of them. “Leave it to me.” **** “Don’t hurt this one,” Zakara ordered in a chillingly controlled voice.


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Christine still couldn’t see or move, but she could hear everything going on around her. With her vision taken out of commission, she concentrated on her surroundings. Distant running water meant she was probably close to the WalsallaRiver. Owls shrieked in the distance as they swooped up and down looking for their evening meals. Coyotes bayed, and she assumed the moon started rising. Okay, twilight had fallen. “Listen to everything I’m hearing, Drake,” she said silently. “This will give you some indication of where I am.” Sharp creaks of wood groaned in the night air, mingled with a much smaller sound of water running over stones. She listened harder, trying to remember where she’d heard that before. Rough hands guided her on a nonexistent path. The shrieks of wood against wood rose in her right, almost seemingly like it was a wheel moving back and forth. She stiffened under the strong fingers digging into the meat of her arm. Now she realized where she was! The old abandoned wheat mill near the WalsallaRiver. It had been abandoned midcentury for being all too archaic, especially when large companies could grind the flour for half the price. Christine had been here many times as a child, sometimes having hidden out here for a day or two when Mom was on her crack kick. Mentally, she drummed up an image of the building she remembered with its weathered, loose boards and scary mill wheel. Owls roosted in the empty attic, the squeaks of their owlets mingling with the sharp wildness of the night. “Follow me, Drake. Remember everything.” Twigs snapped beneath her feet, and it seemed as though she walked for an eternity. Her legs grew tired, and she needed to rest, but she didn’t dare ask the vampire bitch if she could stop. Besides, she didn’t want them to think she was weak and easy. A tiny voice echoed in the halls of her mind. “Where are we going, Mommy?” She almost halted in midstride, unable able to comprehend what just happened. Did her baby just talk to her? Christine dismissed the notion as a figment of her imagination. She was just too tired and worn out. “I want my daddy,” the frightened voice said. “Where’s Daddy?” The small, childlike voice creeped her out completely. How could an almost five-month-old fetus talk? This was utterly insane. She’d heard of pregnant women doing strange things but had never heard of hearing strange voices. Hollow clinks of rock against rock rose in the air, replacing the soft grass and dry leaves. So she must be close to Duffy’s Cavern near the old mill. They probably chose this place because of its dark, shadowy remoteness.


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The well-muscled hand holding her arm jerked her to a stop. “Wait here, ma’am,” he ordered in a soft Southern drawl and held her in place. Soft footfalls glided toward her, mingled with a strange exotic perfume. Zakara must be nearby. “I’ve decided to give you your vision back to you,” she stated in a flat tone. Christine kept her chin held high. “Aren’t you worried I’ll be showing Drake visions of where I am?” “No.” “Why not?” Fear pounded along her spine but she refused to show it to Zakara. “I’ve shrouded you in a spell to keep you from Drake’s prying eyes. By the time he finds you, there won’t be anything left.” Zakara laughed low and evilly. “Have your sight back.” The black haze started to clear with a pinprick-sized hole in the center of her vision, widening farther much like a camera lens. She blinked hard a few times, clearing away the last of the cloudiness. Night had indeed fallen with the stars twinkling in the dark sky like tiny diamonds. She blinked and fought back the tears. How was she going to get through to Drake?

Chapter Eleven Her captor hustled her into the unwelcoming opening of the cavern, the wide mouth yawning like a toothless old man in his bed. Christine carefully put her hands out to avoid any traitorous objects sticking out or anything that could potentially trip her. She looked back at the dying light at the entrance and saw the person who had dragged her over what seemed like miles. His brown hair touched his collar, and his sideburns were a lot longer than what was in fashion. He wore a normal-looking T-shirt and jeans, yet he still seemed out of place. “Come along, ma’am. We ain’t got all day,” the man behind her said. She detected a slight Southern drawl in his accent. Texas perhaps? “Gotta keep moving.” “You’ve got a nice voice. Where are you from?” she asked in a friendly tone, hoping to possibly find some help in her situation. One of the best things to get someone to lower their guard was to get them to talk about themselves. “Atlanta, ma’am.” Christine stopped in her tracks and turned to him. Time to use her detective skills. “Let me guess. You were in the Civil War.”


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“You mean the War of Northern Aggression? Yes, ma’am, I was.” The expression on his face relaxed a bit, indicating his guard dropped slightly. He appeared young, not even twenty. He slid a chilly hand over her shoulder and spun her around. “We need to move along.” She shifted her feet. “Okay.” Somehow, she felt less threatened in his presence. Zakara disappeared somewhere, but she wasn’t sure where. The others went with her, leaving Christine alone with this man. “What regiment were you with?” she inquired as the path opened up into a much larger cavern. A small fire burned near the center, the dim orange glow of the flames creating dancing shadows on the glittering quartz-encrusted wall. “I was with the 24th regiment out of Georgia,” he replied and urged her toward the blankets lying out in front of the fire. “Have a seat.” She lowered herself to the ground, completely grateful they’d at least brought several blankets for her. She stuck her hand out. He looked at her curiously for a moment then slipped his hand into hers. “I’m Christine McCall,” she told him. “What’s yours?” The lines of tenseness disappeared from his features as he lowered himself to the ground as well, crossing his legs one over the other Native American style. “Zachary Davis,” he offered. A dimple appeared on his left cheek. “I’m sorry about this, Miss McCall, but when the Queen demands something, she gets it.” She detected a subtle note of regret in his voice. She could use his sympathy for her to help in her escape. “It’s all right, Zach—may I call you Zach?” He nodded. “My boyfriend is out looking for me right now, and well, I don’t think he’s going to be a very pleasant vampire to be around when he finds me.” Zach’s light green eyes widened a bit. “You mean that big hulking Viking looking vampire is your mate?” His lips formed an o. “I’ve heard stories about him.” “Enough about him for now,” she said with a smile. “I’d like to learn more about you.” He blanched a little whiter when she said that. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.” Zach pulled a small haversack that saw better days over next to him and drew out a few items. “Are you hungry?” “Always, now that I’m eating for two.”


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Zach let out a long whistle and handed her a tin can of chicken spread and a few crackers. She accepted them, half wondering if it was poisoned. “I’ve heard about women like you, but I ain’t never seen one,” he announced in that low Southern drawl she might have found sexy before she knew Drake. “I thought that was all legend.” With a quick tug on the pop top, she had the can open and a cracker into the spreading, swirling the pale mush around. She shrugged, trying to play the situation off as casually as possible despite the terror screaming along her veins. “Apparently not.” She paused. “Can you tell me a bit about your life?” Zach looked around as if checking to make sure no one else was around. She sensed that Zakara frightened the crap out of Zach. “I ain’t really supposed to be talking to ya, ma’am, but since the Queen ain’t ’round, I suppose it’ll be all right.” He leaned back on the heels of his hands and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. “Whatcha wanna know?” “What was it like then?” She dug a bit of the tasteless glob out and slipped it into her mouth. She attempted to hold back her grimace. “You know, during the war.” She’d always been a closet reader of history, especially during the Civil War. Her great-great-great-grandfather had fought and died for the Southern cause. “Not like now. We didn’t have no modern conveniences like you folks today have, like microwaves and TVs. We hadda cook our meal outdoors during the war and most of tha time it wasn’t edible. We ate it anyway ’cause it’s all we had. Right before the battle of Fredericksburg, I was so sick of horsemeat I could barely get on my mount.” She caught the twitch of a grimace at the corner of his mouth, and her belly complied with a twist of its own. “That had to be horrible,” she commiserated, the bile rising in her throat. “I couldn’t imagine eating a horse.” “You’d be amazed what you’d do during a war.” He looked ruefully at the ceiling of the cavern. “Especially when ya ain’t got anything to eat.” She slumped on the blanket as a wave of tiredness overwhelmed her. “What’s Atlanta like—you know, before Sherman came through?” “It was a gorgeous place,” Zach recounted with a dreamy, thought-provoking, timbre to his voice. “From the beautiful homes along the main street to the elegant plantations on the edge of town. I grew up on the Mapletree Plantation on the Overton Road. I can remember the magnolia tree–lined mile-long drive leading up to the house and the sounds of carriages pulling up for the evening barbeque.” He sighed. “Those days are long gone, and they’ll never be back. More’s the pity, I guess.” “Was it like Gone with the Wind?”


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Zach smiled in a friendly fashion. “It was better. Men still held doors for women or got up when they entered or left the room. A woman then was to be cherished and put on a pedestal, not like now. I do miss them times.” “I imagine you do,” she answered and lay down on the nubby blanket. It wasn’t much, but at least she didn’t have to lie down on the filthy ground. “How did you end up in the army?” Before he could answer, Zack cocked his head to the side as if he was listening for something. “Lie down and don’t move. I think the Queen has returned, and she’ll be mighty upset if she knows I been talking to ya.” “I’m sure she already knows, Zack.” He shook his head. “I aint takin’ no chances.” Zach bolted from of his spot and was gone in a flash, leaving her alone to stare into the flames. Twigs crackled as the fire burned. So far her plan had worked—a little. She was gaining Zach’s trust. Perhaps tomorrow she could get a bit more out of him and garner a little bit more of his trust. “Is Daddy coming for us?” the childish voice inquired. “Do you want me to call for him?” Christine bolted upright. There’s that damned voice again! Why did her mind play games with her? “I’m too little to play games, Mommy. I can help us.” “How can you help us, little one?” She gave into the strange urge to silently speak to this part of herself. Maybe it would give the odd psychosis something to feed on then go to sleep. “The mean lady doesn’t know what I can do. The bond between Daddy and I is very strong, and he loves me. He wants to find us.” “What can you do, baby?” “I can see Daddy with some other people he cares for. He can see me. He saw me sleeping earlier.” An echo of a giggle erupted. “I was sucking my thumb.” “What else did he see, my darling?” “He saw some things you saw, and he’s looking for us.” Her heart raced at the thought of speaking to her the unborn fetus inside her. Could this child already have this much intelligence? “Make your heart slow down, Mommy. It hurts me.”


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“Okay, baby, I’ll make it slow down.” She took some deep and even breaths, using some old meditation techniques she’d used to control her migraine headaches. Within moments, her heart slowed down to its normal pace. “Better?” “Much better, Mommy. I will try to see Daddy, but the mean lady is making is hard for me. I can’t see very well. She put a blanket over my eyes.” Her heart threatened to pick up its rhythm again, but she forced it back to its normal pace. She held her breath. Zakara must have shrouded her with some sort of a spell the baby could see through partly but not all the way. “Go to sleep for now, little one. When you’re rested and wake up, try again. You’re just too tired.” A distinctive yawn erupted inside her mind. “Okay, Mommy, I will. Good night.” “Good night, my baby.” She rubbed her hand over her belly and hummed an old tune she remembered from childhood, one her Irish grandma used to sing to her when Christine visited. A tear streaked out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. Grandma had always been there with love and support. She had always wanted to live with Grandma, but Mom had refused, saying she needed Christine around the house. After a while, Mom had made it abundantly clear of why she was needed. She had looked at Christine as nothing more than an easy way to earn her drug money. Christine had run away so many times as a child to either Grandma’s or the old mill that Mom never bothered looking for her anymore. Grandma, the victim of a vicious home invasion, had died when Christine was ten. No matter what the police or Mom thought, Christine knew deep down in her heart the murder wasn’t random. Mom had come into an awful lot of money after Grandma died and had spent it like the money burned her fingers. Christine tucked her hands under her head and settled before the fire, watching the flames create the dancing shadows on the walls. No matter what happened to her, she’d make sure her baby would get out of this alive and to Drake. **** “Daddy, come save us!” The childlike voice inside Drake’s head drew alarm, and he set down in the depths of the forest among the blackened trees and silver-tinted scrub. The rest followed suit. “What is it?” Tatiana asked as she landed like the lightest of fairies in front of him. Drake clutched the sides of his head. “I’m not sure. I heard someone calling me Daddy.”


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Raphael laughed. “It might be your son calling to you, my friend. Legend says all infants have intelligence, even while still in the womb.” Drake’s head shot up. “Fuck! Why didn’t I think of that?” He paced uneasily around the meadow, his fists clenched at his sides. No sounds echoed in the still night except for the twisting of his leather hunting suit with his every move. “The baby is half vampire and might be able to pierce through the spell Zakara’s woven tightly around them.” Alex jumped up. “You’re right! Your baby is extremely intelligent at the moment and probably has already alerted Christine to the fact, though I doubt she’ll hardly believe it.” Drake shook his head, allowing a snort of laughter to escape. “She’ll probably think she’s gone nuts because of the situation, knowing her.” “More than likely, and if we’re truly lucky, Zakara will know nothing of the baby’s intelligence.” Raphael slapped his hands together. “Now the trick is to come up with something to keep that fact from Zakara.” Siobhan stepped forward and extracted a bit of folded paper from her belt. “I took this from Zakara’s grimoire an eternity ago because I thought it might come in handy sometime.” Drake’s brow lifted. “You carry this with you everywhere?” She threw him a saucy wink. “Just in case I ever needed it. The trick with this spell is that it’ll cloak the baby’s intelligence enough to keep Zakara from finding out and giving you ample time to find them—before it’s too late.” Drake pounded his gloved fist against his open palm. “Don’t say that. I’m not going to let her down.” “No, you won’t,” Tatiana said with a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s enact the spell. Then you can try and make contact with your baby and see if the fetus can offer us anything.” Anger pounded at the sides of his head. “All right. Let’s do this.” They stood in a circle and held hands while Siobhan led them in the chant of the spell, their voices starting low then rising to become one with the night. A thick cloud of dust started in a small dervish in the middle of the circle and then rose higher and higher, becoming a massive black column, thick and wild. “We invoke this spell to protect the infant inside of Christine McCall’s body,” Siobhan said directly to the six-foot-tall, tornado-like cylinder. “Go and do as you are bid. Protect the child from evil eyes.” With that, the wild wind swept out of the area and disappeared into nothingness, the dust particles settling down again.


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Drake broke the hold with the group and stepped back. “How long do we need to wait?” Siobhan slumped down on a nearby rock, her hands in her lap. “I don’t know. I’ve never had to use it before.” “Fucking great.” Drake snapped and leaned against a nearby tree, his arms folded over his chest. “My woman and child are out there somewhere, and we’ve just used a spell we’re not sure is going to work.” “Hold up there, asshole,” Siobhan said defensively. “It’s all we’ve got for the moment. It’s tenuous at best, but we’ve got to at least try something until we find her.” “Siobhan’s right,” Raphael interjected. “We know your fear and worry for Christine, but until you can connect with her or the baby, we’re flying blind in a snowstorm. Until we get some direction, we’re lost.” Drake drew a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.” He stood and embraced Siobhan. “I’m not mad at you. It’s just the fucking situation. I’m half out of my mind with worry. This shit is all my fault.” He remained silent for a minute and waited for the obligatory questions from everyone but they all remained mute. He looked up. “Don’t everyone argue with me at once. ” Liz’s face softened. “Come with me, Drake.” She walked a short distance away from the others, and he followed, curious to see what she had to say. She stopped well out of earshot of the others. “What happened?” Drake slumped his shoulders in a defeated pose. “I told her I loved her, but she couldn’t reciprocate the sentiment. I got pissed off and treated her like shit.” “So you’re blaming yourself for this?” He nodded. “I know why she was at that damned clinic. Since I acted like an asshole and I didn’t care if she loved me, then she must have figured she could sneak away and get an abortion without my knowing about it.” Liz’s smile spread wide across her face. “She didn’t, did she? She’s still pregnant, right?” “What in the hell does this have to do with anything?” Liz punched him in the shoulder then smacked the side of his head playfully. “Men can be so dense at times. She didn’t get the abortion because she loves you. She might not have said it in so many words, but from everything I know of Christine, she is very much in love with you. Her actions speak volumes, not her words.”


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Drake smacked his forehead. He was utterly stupid. “Why did it take another woman to point this out?” “As I’ve stated before, all men can be dense, vampire or human. You were so focused on her words, that you ignored her actions.” Drake threw his hands up. “You’re right. I’m as dense as a brick. Everything she’s done for me, and I didn’t see it.” He brushed a kiss across Liz’s cheekbone. “Thanks so much for helping me to see the truth.” “Anytime,” she said in a cheerful tone as they walked the distance toward the others. Immediately, Liz glided to Raphael’s side and slid her arm around his waist. Raphael kissed the top of her golden head. “Everything settled?” Liz threw Drake a wink. “All taken care of.” “That’s my Elizabeth.” Raphael beamed and hugged her tighter. Siobhan hopped up from the rock she’d been sitting on. “Okay, now let’s try and connect with the baby. If he’s sleeping, you may not get anything. If he’s active though, you might get something.” Drake nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.” Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the image of his infant son in his mind. “Son, wake up.” Nothing. “It’s Daddy, son. Wake up. I need your help.” “Daddy, is that you?” “Yes, son, it’s me. I need your help.” “I’m so sleepy, Daddy.” “I know, son, but you have to help me.” “I want to so much, but the mean lady is here and making Mommy afraid.” “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here, and I’m going to find you. I need your help.” “No, don’t be afraid, Mommy. Make your heart slow down. It hurts me.” “Okay, son, it’s okay. Shhhh, I’m here. Don’t be afraid.”


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He could almost see the fear choking the baby. Rage surged through him. If he were with Christine right now, he’d be rubbing her belly and calming them both down. “I’m scared, Daddy.” “Don’t be afraid. I’m going to find you both and bring you home.” “I’m so sleepy.” A tiny baby yawn erupted. “Go back to sleep, son. I’ll be sending help to you until I can rescue you and your mother. When you wake up again, call for me and I’ll be right there.” “Promise?” “I promise. When you wake up, you can help me find you and Mommy.” “Okay. Good night.” The connection to his son broke like the snap of a twig. At least he knew they were both alive. Hopefully, the cloaking spell for the infant’s intelligence worked or else there was no telling what Zakara would do if she found out. “What did you find out?” Drake smiled. “Everything I need to know for the moment.” Nicholas’s brow rose. “What do you mean?” “Come with me and I’ll tell you all about it.” **** Loneliness overtook Christine, making her heart sink. What if Drake didn’t truly want her? He may want the baby and perhaps they could work out some sort of arrangement, at least for the next two years. Distant voices, the rising timbre indicating danger loomed very real for her, did nothing but raise her anxiety. Blood pounded in her ears, and the constriction of her throat tightened. She swallowed hard. What exactly were they going to do now? Strangely, she heard wind echoing through the cavern, bouncing off all the walls almost as if it had its own mind and direction. What in the hell was going on? The soft whistling of air continued to travel down the pathway she’d tread earlier and entered the cavern with whisper softness. She froze in her spot. Was it Drake getting past Zakara to save her?


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Without warning, a massive pain erupted in her abdomen, making her double over. Dear God, was she losing the baby? The pain surged and wrapped around her insides, coiling around her midsection like a snake. As powerful as it was, she was sure it would pass. Just as she hoped, the pain slipped away as quickly as it had come. Tears fell from her eyes. Please don’t let me lose the baby. “I found Daddy, and he said he was going to send help for us.” “Good. When is he coming?” “He wants me to sleep now, and when I wake up, he said he would be there and all I had to do was call for him.” “Do what your daddy tells you.” “I will, Mommy. I’m very tired now, so I’m going to sleep.” “Okay, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.” “I love you and Daddy.” “I love you too, baby. Try to sleep and I’ll keep my heart rate low for you.” Silence greeted her, which made her feel better. The baby had fallen asleep and hopefully would get all the rest he needed. Footsteps, careful and slow, approached her. “Are you all right, ma’am?” She turned to find Zach standing behind her, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. “I’m fine. Just resting.” “Good,” he said and settled next to her. “I was getting kinda worried for ya.” “Thanks for the concern.” She noticed he wore an odd, sorrowful expression. “Is something wrong?” Zach turned and went back to the haversack and lowered himself next to it, resuming his former position. “It depends on which end you’re on.” “What do you mean?” He wiped his face with the open palm of his right hand. “I don’t know how ta tell ya this, but I think the Queen is gonna start breeding ya like a cat.” “She’s already told me.”


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Zach turned his head away as if he was too ashamed to look at her. “I’m the one whose supposed ta keep ya pregnant.” Fear tumbled in mass waves inside her soul. She trembled, but thankfully, he couldn’t see her terror because of the darkness. “Please don’t do this, Zach. She’s not worth it.” He shot to his feet with the speed of summer lightning and paced the length of the small fire uneasily. “I don’t want ta do it, plain and simple. If’n I don’t, she’ll expose me to the sun and I’m toast.” She urged him closer. He took a reflexive step toward her, inching as close as he dared. “Okay, I might be able to help you here if you help me.” Zach cocked his head as if listening again. Silence greeted them. “She’s listening.” “How do you know?” “I can tell things. Even though she’s out hunting, she still listens.” Time to use her cop skills some more. “Then we’ll talk in code. She won’t understand.” Zach continued to look dubious. “I don’t know.” “Please help me. If you do, I promise you Drake will help you get away from her and possibly join his people.” His light eyes brightened just a speck. “Truly?” “Absolutely. If you help save my life and his child’s life, there’s nothing he won’t do for you.” A glimmer of hope and trust burned behind his pale orbs. “All right then. I’ll sleep when you sleep. Then when the others are resting during the day, we’ll talk some more. The only time the Queen doesn’t listen is when she’s resting.” Christine drew another blanket over her and brought it up to her chin. “Good. I’m not exactly tired yet, so why don’t you finish telling me a bit more about yourself.” **** Zach immediately felt a sense of relief. He didn’t to be part of Zakara’s minions anymore and hadn’t for a long time. This might be his chance to get out and eke out his own existence elsewhere. “Let’s see. Well, I graduated from the Virginia Military Institute around eighteen sixty, I suppose. Not much good on dates.” He leaned back on his hands. “I wasn’t a real good student, not like some of the others.” Ms. McCall snuggled in the raggedy blanket, shivering in the cold night air. Pangs of sympathy reverberated through him, making him want to grab her and rush out of here. He’d heard


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stories about her big Viking vampire, and personally, he didn’t want to come up against the giant hulk if he could help it. “Not everyone can be a top student.” He shrugged. “I wanted to retire a general, but when you had low grades like me, a general is damn near impossible.” He paused. “Sorry for my use of obscene language.” “No big deal. Go on.” “Well, I was a captain in R. R. Cobb’s legion. It was ’round December thirteenth in eighteen sixty two if memory serves. We were trying to hold Prospect Hill, waiting for Burnside to make his move. All was tense that morning. We knowed they was there but couldn’t really find ’em. Sort like stretching rubber band until it breaks. You never know what’s gonna happen.” **** Christine reveled in his battle description, the soft lilt of his voice lending more authenticity to the story. “What did you do?” “Waited. All we could do. Then, as dawn broke, a shot fired over the ridge. I took the platoon of men I’d been assigned, and we rode into battle in an effort to flank the enemy. Unfortunately, they’d thought of that and caught us by surprise.” Despite the fear riding her insides, she remained enthralled with the story. “Is this when you were killed?” Zach nodded. “Got shot in the chest.” He paused for a minute as if he needed to remember the rest of the story. “I remember lying there, waiting for death to come in and take me away like it did most of my men. I remember feeling my heart slowing down, slower and slower. Suddenly, this beautiful woman appears out of nowhere, and I’m thinking to myself, ‘She’s a nurse,’ and I almost told her to go away ’cause I was gonna die.” “Zakara was the nurse, I’m assuming.” “Correct,” he continued. “She offered me the chance to live then, and like a fool, I took it.” Shame colored his face. “I’ve regretted the decision every day since then, now more than ever.” The desperation in his voice moved her to action. Rising from her spot, she leaned over and touched his chilly hand, closing her own over it. “We’ll get you out of this, I promise. Have a little faith.” “I have faith in that, ma’am. It’s that I don’t think I’ll be alive long enough to see it happen.”


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Chapter Twelve The arrival of the new day came and went, finding Christine working on a code language with Zach so they could plan her escape. Zach was amendable to everything because he didn’t want to be part of Zakara’s minions any longer. He’d longed to live without killing, much like Drake and the rest of the clan. Christine felt at ease with him, no threats intended. He was the epitome of a Southern gentleman. Every time she needed to get up, he helped her, and when she had to pee, he found her a spot in the cave. She definitely needed to help him any way she could. They relaxed before the fire, not really saying much. “What time is it?” she asked him. Since there was no light in the cave, she didn’t know if it was day or night. Zach glanced at a watch very similar to Drake’s. “Nine o’clock.” “A.m. or p.m.?” “P.m.” He looked at her curiously. “Is there medication you need to take?” Christine let a sigh escape. “No. It means I’ve been here a whole day and no Drake.” Zach scooted toward her, inching his way along carefully. He slipped a comforting arm around her shoulder. “Your man will be here soon. Just as you told me before, have faith. It’ll be all right.” “I hope so.” Her voice sounded defeated, matching her current doubts. What if Drake didn’t want her anymore? “Move away from her.” Christine and Zach both froze at the sound of David’s menace-laden voice cutting through the dark shadows of the cave. They turned in unison. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean any harm. She’s upset, that’s all.” David remained as still as the grave and warned, “Do as you’re commanded.” Zach moved away from her in the same manner he’d approached her. Footsteps echoing in the sand circled around her in a predatory gait. David came into a view, standing next to the small burning fire. Golden light spilled onto his pale face, highlighting his features. Dark hair sprang up from his head, held in place by gel. Black eyeliner rimmed his eyes, and he was dressed in an ensemble composed of a black leather shirt, pants, and boots topped by an ebony overcoat with silver studs. “Why didn’t you meet me when I told you to?”


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Part of her wanted to laugh at his outfit because this wasn’t the David she loved and remembered. That man had died the night at the club, replaced by this repulsive creature. “Something inside me warned me not to.” “Bad move. You shouldn’t have listened to the Viking bastard who knocked you up.” David swept the edge of his coat aside and crouched low by the fire with the posture of a tiger ready to spring, his eyes glowing with some sort of demonic fire. “He’s not who or what you think.” Christine held her emotions in check. “He’s more than I’ve ever dreamed of, if that’s what you mean.” “Not exactly.” David snapped his fingers, and she noticed his fingernails had been painted black, complemented by fingerless gloves. She narrowed her eyes. This wasn’t David at all. A young vampire appeared conveying a copper basin filled with water. She handed the vessel to David with a nod. He flashed a devilish smile to the girl, and she left with a slight giggle on her lips. He returned his attention to Christine, his stare very hypnotizing. “Look into the bowl and see the bastard for who he is.” “I won’t look,” she said and turned her head away. “Anything I see will be a lie.” His black brow lifted. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Look into the water.” “No.” “I command you to look.” Without warning, her head automatically turned to the basin before her, the muscles of her neck beyond her control. The surface of the water shimmered for a moment as ripples ran from the middle, the tiny waves dappled with the glow of the fire. A thick fog rolled through the water for a moment then cleared, giving her a complete look into Drake’s bedroom. Moonlight streamed through the open window near the bed, falling on four naked forms on the bed. Three nubile females with Drake. Two sucked his nipples while the third impaled herself on his glorious cock, riding him for all he was worth. “Where’s your woman?” one woman purred seductively. “She should be here with us.” “I don’t care about her. She was just a fling,” Drake in the vision said. “I knocked her up, but I’m praying she decides to get an abortion. I didn’t want any kids.” The woman riding him leaned forward and kissed him long and lingeringly on the mouth. He


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seemed to enjoy them… Her flaring anger ripped through whatever hold he had on her and she flipped the bowl over, sending water all over the place. “Enough!” she screamed and shot to her feet. “That isn’t the truth. He’s out looking for me right now.” David stood to his full height and crossed his arms in front. “Maybe or maybe not. Who’s to say?” He took a step forward and enveloped her in the sickly sweet smell of death. She recoiled. “Help me, Drake!” David’s grin deepened. “There’s no one to help you now, bitch.” **** “Can you hear me, Daddy?” The baby’s terror-filled thoughts crossed his mind, and instantly, rage surged through him, his fingers flexing with the sheer magnitude of raw emotion. Yes, baby, I can hear you. “I’m awake, and I think I can help you find Mommy and me.” “Go ahead, son. Tell me what you know.” “When they first took Mommy, she heard running water and some old wood creaking. She thought of an old house with brown boards and a big wheel. She called it the old stone mill. They made her walk a good distance. Then they took her to a cave. They were real mean to her and made her scared.” “It’s okay, son. You’re doing well. Is there anything else you can tell me?” “She called the cave Dufty’s Cavern—” “You mean Duffy’s Cavern?” “Yes, Daddy. That’s it.” “What else?” “There’s a nasty man telling her all kinds of lies about you, but Mommy wouldn’t believe them.” Drake breathed a sigh of relief. He imagined David and Zakara would try some of their mindbending tricks. They were probably trying to convince Christine that he lolled in bed with another woman instead of out looking for her. From what his son said, Christine hadn’t taken the bait. “Good, son. Keep going.”


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“Mommy’s real scared because they told her she would have a lot more babies like me.” “She will, son, but they’ll be from me, no one else. Is there anything else you can tell me?” A long frightening pause. “She’s afraid they’ll hurt me.” “They won’t. I promise. Nobody will hurt while Daddy is around.” “Okay, Daddy. Have I been a good boy?” “Yes, you have, son. Now I want you to go to sleep, and I’ll be there soon to take you and Mommy home.” “Promise?” “I promise.” “I will be a good boy and do as you say.” Silence greeted him once again, and he slumped onto a nearby rock, his fingers massaging his temple. Relief flooded him. “Did you find her?” Alex asked, her Spanish-lilted voice full of concern. He nodded and jerked to his feet. Anger pounded against his very soul, hot and scorching. Zakara would pay with her life for taking Christine, of that he’d make sure. “That I did. She’s near the old wheat mill outside of town. There’s a cave about mile away called Duffy’s Cavern, where they took her. It’s dark, dank, and a perfect place to stash her.” Liz gave him a hug. “Good. Now let’s go get her and see what we can do to put Zakara away for as long as possible.” Together, they changed into a whirling black mass, rising into the din of the night. With the speed of summer lighting, they traveled to Duffy’s cavern. Carved out millions of years before by miles of underground rivers, the God-forsaken place could harbor a lot of vampires quite easily with its miles of unforgiving tunnels. “How many minions do you think she has with her?” Nicholas said mentally as they alighted down on top of the rocky structure. “Not many,” Drake said, his senses keen to the presence of Zakara’s vampires. “I sense they’re young vampires and not into their full strength yet.” Thankfully, it took two hundred years for that to happen. Poor Liz didn’t have the strength of Tatiana, but she would in time. He and Raphael would have to keep on the lookout for Liz. “We’ll move on my mark.” ****


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Christine shivered inside of the cave, hugging herself hard. A day had come and gone without any sign of Drake. “Daddy is here, Mommy. He’s just outside the cave waiting for the right time to come in.” “Are you sure?” “He told me so, and I sense he’s here.” “Is he going to save us?” “Yes, Mommy. He loves us.” Christine stopped her slight rocking. David continued to watch her with a predatory gaze, leaning against his silver-handled cane. “You think you’re so smart, Christine, but you’re not. You had to be a blind fool to not see how much I loved you all the time we were together.” She fisted the hem of the sundress to hide her fear. The steady thrumming of her heart made her breath hitch slightly. “I loved you, too but not in that way. I loved you like my brother.” Anger blazed in his pale eyes. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to lay you down, spread your legs, and fuck the daylights out of you.” She shook her head. “It wouldn’t have worked then, and it sure as hell won’t work now. I don’t love you like that.” “It doesn’t matter anymore.” His gaze flicked to Zach. “That pathetic thing over there isn’t going to breed that army the Queen wants.” He crouched low. “I’ll finally get my chance to fuck you.” “Yes, you will, my minion,” a woman cooed, the voice belonging to Zakara. She walked with quiet footfalls around Christine to David’s side where she ran her long nailed fingers up his leather-clad shoulder. “You’ll breed a new army for me that will do my bidding and help me take over the world.” Christine looked up. “I’ll die first.” Zakara’s evil smile spread across her exotic yet hateful face. “That can be arranged, I assure you, but not before I get what I want.” “You’ll have to get through me first.” Drake’s rich baritone voice ricocheted through the cavern, sending hard echoes into the deep depths. Once she heard his timbre, Christine shot to her feet and launched herself into his arms. “God, how I’ve missed you,” she said, smothering her face into his leather-clad chest. “I knew you’d come.”


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“Of course.” He tightened his grip on her. “How could you think otherwise?” Drake kissed her forehead and slid her behind him. “I’ve got a little business to take care of, and when I’m through, I’ve got a few questions for you.” He looked to Zakara with a hardened stare. From where she stood, she could see the tenseness ride along his jaw, making the muscles in his face twitch. “Your time has come, Zakara. Face your punishment.” “Not so fast, Drake.” She snapped her fingers. More figures melted out of the darkness, dressed in identical clothing. Christine looked over Drake’s shoulder and noticed Zach hovering in the corner, appearing like a scared rabbit caught in a trap. She waved and tried to catch his attention, but he remained fixed on Zakara, almost frozen in his spot. Damn, how could she attract his attention without Zakara seeing? “You’ve brought stronger ones with you, ones we’ll have trouble subduing.” Anger radiated from him in waves, sending ripples of hostility through the already tense atmosphere. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll be brought to order, and you’ll be punished.” “Not so, Viking. It will be you who will be punished. I am the one who made you, and I’m also the one who can destroy you.” She took a menacing step toward Drake, her long fingers outstretched, slightly resembling claws. “I see you’ve forgotten all the times you shared my bed and how happy it made you.” A stab of jealousy pierced Christine’s heart when she heard that, but she remained stoic. “I was never happy in your bed but merely entranced. That wore off quickly once I realized your true nature.” Zakara’s hand caressed Drake’s cheek with her right forefinger. “We could have those times again.” He threw Zakara’s hand away. “Never again. I’ve found the woman I love, who is having my baby. Nothing will ever change that.” Pride and love stormed through Christine, making her heart swell. Once this was through, she would tell him exactly how much she loved him. Zakara’s eyes hardened. “Then die.” Before anyone could move, Zakara clamped a mouth onto Drake’s neck and started to feed. Liz pulled Christine away, though she’d fought to stay while the others attempted to tear Zakara away from him. She watched helplessly as the Tatiana and Siobhan tried to pry Zakara off, but she merely


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pushed them away with a wave of her hand. Nicholas, Raphael, and Alex made a second attempt, but Zakara shrugged them off as easily as one would a coat. Just as they readied themselves to charge back, Zakara’s minions jumped into the fray with fangs bared. Fists flew in all directions, and the bodies hovered in the air with no visible means of support. Christine kept her eyes on Drake as tears rolled down her cheeks. He grew limp from Zakara feeding on him like a side of beef. “Someone help him!” she cried above the din of noise. Vampires buzzed around her head, attacking each other in a wild frenzy. Where would it end? Zakara let Drake’s limp body fall from her arms. Blood ran down her chin in crimson streaks, dripped onto her gauzy white gown. “Die, Berserker,” she spat and turned to the others and joined into the fighting frenzy. Before Christine could rush to him, she saw something she never expected to see. Zach ran over to Drake and scooped his hands underneath Drake’s arms and dragged his unmoving form toward her. “Your man needs help, ma’am,” Zach announced and laid the unconscious Drake at her feet. Christine dropped to her knees next to him. She took his face in her hands, the pale skin even more so. His dark blond lashes lay against his cheeks like brown smudges. Tears erupted, falling from her eyes to his cheeks. She patted his face and begged, “Please, wake up, my love.” “Daddy says the mean lady gave him poison.” “What, son?” “Daddy said to give him some of your blood. He will be all better then.” “Did he tell you this?” “Yes, he did. He can hear you, but he’s very weak now. The poison has almost taken over his body.” “Tell Daddy since he’s taken care of me, I’ll take care of him.” She knew what she needed to do. “Give me knife,” she demanded of Zach. His brow lifted. “What are you going to do?” “He needs blood, and I need to cut myself.” Zach sighed. “I don’t have a knife, but I have my fangs. I’ll help you.” “Good.” She held her wrist out to him. “Try not to make it too painful.”


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Zach nodded and laid his cold lips against her flesh and bit down. A sharp sting, much like a syringe needle, was the only pain. He tasted a bit of her blood before pulling away. “That should be enough.” Christine leaned down close to Drake’s ear. “Drink deep and hard, my love. Get better.” She opened his mouth and laid her bloody wrist against his lips. He didn’t move a muscle. “Tell Daddy to drink.” “Okay. He can hear me well.” She kept silent, waiting for him to do something. Dear Lord, had the poison killed him already? Then, as if by some minor miracle, his mouth convulsed. He started lapping at the offered blood, drinking in as much as he dared. Her heart pulsed, forcing the blood from the wound and into his body, hopefully counteracting whatever poison Zakara had injected into him. Unfortunately, her pussy convulsed in a strange way, a hot erotic feeling swirling in her belly. No, she told herself. You can’t orgasm now. Drake needs you too badly. Normally when he’d bit her, the same thing happened. Her body apparently didn’t know the difference. “Daddy says he’s had enough of your blood. He says we have to wait for your blood to cure him.” “Are you sure?” “Daddy says yes.” The sucking stopped, and she pulled her arm away. “I guess all we can do is wait.” She looked to the others fighting Zakara’s minions, all dark blurs flying before her sight. Her heart roared as she desperately tried to make out the figures. The only one she could see was David. She looked to him. Hopefully, some shred of the real David existed beneath the gothic veneer and he could hear her. “Help them, David! If you love me like you say you do, you’ll help defeat Zakara!” she screamed into the den of darkness lit only by the golden glow of the fire. Indecision wavered in his eyes as he looked from her to the melee and back to her. “I don’t want to defeat her,” he shouted back and stormed over to her, crouching low. “I will be her king.” Christine grabbed David by his lapels. “Don’t you understand? She’ll never give you that title because she eats and breathes control. If you become king, you’ll supersede her, and she won’t


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tolerate that.” His expression dropped. “She promised me.” “She’s the daughter of Satan! Her promises mean nothing.” Christine brought him closer away from the madness. “Help Drake, the baby, and me survive this.” The twisted mask he wore disappeared, almost as if the true David reappeared. “I do love you, Christine, and I always have.” He looked to the others. Nicholas, Raphael, and the girls had some of the vampires subdued and killed the others. Zakara was alone and defenseless. “It’s time for retribution,” Raphael warned in a deep, even tone. “You need to pay for all the evil you’ve committed.” Zakara’s cold, calculating gaze shifted from each vampire she’d created, mired down in her own menace. “You’ll not destroy me, for I am the daughter of Satan. He will not allow that to happen.” “This is one bond he’ll not be able to break, bitch,” Nicholas snarled. “You’ll be entombed for all eternity.” Her eyes widened. “How dare you speak to me in this fashion? I’ve created all of you, and just like that blond lump over there, I’ll destroy all of you.” With a rolling snarl, Nicholas was the first one to leap onto her form and sink his teeth in. The others followed suit. Zakara writhed underneath their biting. Her shrieks echoed through the cavernous space. “Stop it! Get off me!” The vampires flew all over the place as she pushed them away, their bodies landing in heaps. “Don’t let them take the last sip,” Drake croaked from the area around her knees. “Whoever takes Zakara’s death into themselves will suffer her fate as well.” She swung her attention to Zach. “Get them to stop. Someone will be destroyed when they take the last drop of her blood.” Before Zach could move, David stood and strode over to the weakened Zakara. She stumbled and wove her way in a circle with rivulets of blood running down her body, staining the gauzy white material of her dress. “That’s it, my minion. Give me your blood so I might survive.” David said nothing, continuing to stare at his maker. Instantly, Christine knew what he was about to do. “No, David! Don’t do it!” David disregarded her plea and swooped down into Zakara’s neck and sank his fangs into the


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ashen flesh. Locking his mouth onto her, David drained the last drops of her blood. Zakara croaked a bit as David drained her of life, a dark ring spreading from his lips through the rest of his body like the blackened roots of a tree. Zakara grew limp like a forgotten dishrag. He dropped her body to the floor and spat on her. David twisted his head toward Christine, a smile crossing his lips. “I love you, Christine, and I always will.” Sudden wild winds circumvented the cave and whirled the dust all around them, extinguishing the fire. Howls and shrieks sound all around, making everyone’s ears hurt. Bits of rock flew, hitting anyone in their path. “David!” she cried out blindly in the unnatural windstorm, clutching both Zach and Drake at the same time. As fast as the wind came up, it died down, the dust and bits of rock settling. She blinked. What in the hell just happened? “Drake?” She patted his face. “Please, wake up.” He didn’t move. “We’ve got to get you out of here,” Zach said in the eerie silence. “I don’t like the way this feels.” Raphael and the others rushed over to her. “How is Drake?” Tears, hot and scorching, rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know. He won’t respond.” Raphael shot her a serious look. “Did you give him some of your blood?” She nodded. “Good. That should hold him until we get him to Dr. Levin.” They picked up Drake’s body and proceeded to carry him out of the cave. She leaned against Zach. “I’m so frightened for him.” “He’ll pull through this, ma’am. You’ll see.” Christine sniffed. “I don’t want to lose him like I’ve lost David.” She lowered her head. “What became of David?” “Don’t know. Let’s look.” With his acute vision, Zach located his old haversack and dug around inside. Lying at the bottom


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was a flashlight. He pulled it out and turned on the light. Christine gasped. David stood before her, carved out of gleaming stone, a perfect effigy. “What in the hell happened to him?” She walked over and touched the cool rock. Zach shrugged. “Your mate would know.” He rapped his knuckles against the statue. “Darnedest thing I’ve ever seen.” He lowered the beam to the floor. Zakara’s form remained outlined in the same fashion except she appeared like in sweet repose, complete with a sword on her chest. Christine shivered. “Get me the hell out of here.”

Epilogue Drake seemed to recover quickly with the help of Dr. Levin. Thankfully, he’d told the baby to let Christine know to give him blood to counteract the deadly poison. Days flew by, and she managed to fulfill her promise to Zach about a better life. During Drake’s recovery, she explained how Zach helped her through her capture. Drake listened intently then asked to see Zach. When Zach entered Drake’s bedroom, she could read the fright in his eyes. He asked Zach few questions, and, satisfied with his answers, Drake welcomed Zach to the coven and hired him to run Berserker for him. When she asked why, Drake explained that he wanted to spend more time with her and the baby. She yawned and stretched. Drake lay asleep next to her, his golden back in his line of vision. “Drake, I was thinking—oomph!” she cried out as a horrific pain swept across her utterly swollen belly. Drake jerked awake. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing. I was thinking—” Another pain crossed her midsection, cutting her words off. He laid a hand on her contracting belly and smiled. “I think you’re in labor, hun.” He grabbed the phone next to the bed and quickly dialed Dr. Levin’s number. From Drake’s end of the stilted conversation, she imagined what questions the good doctor asked. “Her contractions are very close together.” A pause. “Not sure.” He looked to her. “Dear wife, how long has this been going on?” “Just started,” she snapped as another pain rippled across her. “I think this baby wants out.”


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“Just started,” he repeated into the phone. She looked at his hands. If she weren’t mistaken, she detected a slight tremor. Could it be this big, hulking Viking was a tad bit nervous? He shouldn’t be. He’d had other children after all. “Okay. We’ll be waiting.” Drake shut off his phone. “The doctor’s on her way, but she told me to be ready in case the little one comes before she gets here.” She gulped hard. “Let me guess. Since this is an accelerated pregnancy, there’s a chance you’ll have to deliver the baby.” He nodded. “Okay then, let’s go.” **** Just a Dr. Levin predicted, little Gaelorn Haaken arrived before she got there. Drake was just as calm and knowledgeable as he delivered their son. Like any nervous father, he counted all the fingers and toes, making sure everything was where it should be. Dr. Levin arrived just in time to cut the cord. The minute the baby’s connection to her was severed, Gaelorn let out a wail that would deafen any human’s ears. The doctor cleaned the baby up and handed him to Drake while she finished up with the birthing procedures. Once everything died down and the doctor left, Drake slid into bed next to her with Gaelorn in his arms. Taking his left arm, he wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “He’s beautiful, Christine. The best present I have ever been given.” Drake looked at her with concern stamped on his face. “There is something I’d like to ask you.” She had prepared herself for this question for the last few weeks. Ever since he’d recovered, he had never asked her anything about the time before her kidnap. “Okay. Shoot.” “Why were you at the abortion clinic?” Her spine turned rigid. Time for the truth. “I went there because I thought you didn’t want me or the baby. I could go away, but the baby would be a constant reminder of you.” His hold tightened. “Why didn’t you go through with the abortion?” She snuggled into the crook of his arm. “Because I knew I was being too hasty. It’s not like I don’t believe in abortion, but maybe, because I had created this wonderful little being, I couldn’t destroy him.” She turned her head up. “Also, it was because I’m in love with you.” His smile lit up the darkened room. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to hear it.” “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to say it.” She twisted the three-carat diamond on the third finger of her left hand. They’d married at the justice of the peace when Drake


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regained his strength, then declared a marriage bond in front of the coven members, covering both human and vampire fronts. Drake got up from the bed and laid Gaelorn in his cradle next to Christine’s side of the bed. “I’m so glad you resigned your job. I couldn’t stand the thought of you going out and fighting criminals like that. I’d never get any rest.” “Lou wasn’t exactly thrilled when I turned in my resignation, but he’ll get over it.” She paused. “What really blew him away was the fact I told him I was marrying you.” His blond brow lifted. “Why?” “Because we hadn’t known each other that long. He said I was crazy and it was doomed to fail.” Drake laughed. “What a numbnut.” He removed his clothes and slid in next to her. “Have you given any thought about what I proposed earlier?” She inched closer to him. “I haven’t come to a decision about that yet, Drake. I don’t know if I want to become a vampire.” He nuzzled her ear. “I’ll tell you what. I don’t want your answer right now, but by the time baby number five comes along, I’d like to have your answer.” “I’ll think about it.” He kissed her cheek. “Keep in mind I’ll be tempting you until then.” “Hmmm, I think I’ll let you.” THE END

Prince Of Darkness

Prince of Darkness

Prince of Darkness