Clare
was waiting for him in her suite at the Four Seasons. She had just come from
the shower when he arrived at the door; she answered his knock wearing a loose
terry robe bearing the hotel crest on the breast pocket. Her hair was wet,
slicked back from her face to accentuate the prominent angle of her cheekbones.
She grinned, pleased. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you.”
He
brandished an old Army issue duffle bag. “I had to pack my gear.”
Her
grin broadened over jagged white fangs. “Then you’re coming with me.”
“Make
me an offer I can’t refuse.”
She
caught him by the waistband and yanked him over the threshold, making him drop
the bag and kicking the door closed behind him. “How’s this for starters?” she
growled into his mouth. She pinned him against the door and wriggled free of
her robe as her hands worked him out of his jeans. It was like being hit by a
meteor: he saw stars, felt nothing, then every nerve lit up like a sparkler.
Whenever he imagined himself accustomed to senses amplified by immortality,
Clare proved him wrong. She took him higher and dropped him further than should
have been possible. In his lucid moments, he wondered if it was in him to foil
her—but lucid moments were few and far between when she was in his arms. The force
of her nature overpowered his every time; he obeyed her because he didn’t know
how to disobey her … and wasn’t sure that he wanted to.
“Clare—”
“Don’t
talk.”
“Clare,
I—”
She
sank her claws into the tender flesh of his belly and he gasped. He felt her smile
against his open mouth, felt her hands slip deep into his jeans. He tried to
drive her back a step, stumbled over the duffle bag and went to his knees.
Clare went down beneath him, laughing, snaking those long legs around his hips.
Black gave up. Give her what she wants, he thought on the downward
thrust, then she can lie to me and I’ll believe her and we’ll both be happy.
If
only that were true.
She
put on a good show. She broke a sweat on him and lay back sated, flinging her
arms wide though her legs remained coiled around him. They hadn’t made it
beyond the little alcove at the door before the wrangling had started. God knew
what the neighbours had heard. He tried to get up but she locked her legs and
held him in place, rolling her hips under his. “You like?”
He
shook his head, fighting the creeping tingle at the base of his spine. “You’re
going to be the death of me.”
She
released a gale of crazy laughter. “That’s the beauty of it, Ariel. You can’t
die.”
Oh, yes I can, he thought. He lowered his head and nipped at her breast.
She made a noise of vague protest, urging him to violence but he didn’t take
the cue. “We have to talk.”
“Not
now. I don’t want to talk. I just want to feel you inside me. It’s so good, we
should have stayed together from the start.”
“Yeah,
it’s good, but we have to talk. So let me up.”
“Yes,
Clare, do let him up. I want to hear what he has to say.”
Black
swore aloud, recognizing the gravelly drawl. A pair of polished patent boots
had appeared by Clare’s head, but Black didn’t bother lifting his to see who
owned them. Instead, he looked accusingly at Clare. She stared back, revealing
nothing—but she let him up.
Raymond
bent to help her to her feet. Black used the opportunity to get up and shove
everything back into his jeans. “I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, dryly.
The
silken smile flashed. “Surprise.”
“Why
do I have the feeling this isn’t the last one of the evening?”
“How
astute of you, Ariel. Why don’t you tell Clare why you’re really here?”
“You
tell her, then we’ll both know.”
Clare
tried to look puzzled, but her close proximity to Raymond betrayed her. She
knew why Black had come, and was worried enough to have called on her maker.
Black saw no reason to hedge. He reached into his jacket and showed her the
photo of Travis. “You know this guy.” It was not a question.
“I
know a lot of guys,” she said. “Why do you care about this one?”
“He’s
been dead for six months now, but there’s some debate about whether or not it
was suicide. I don’t think it was. I think you killed him.”
Her
jaw dropped. “You bastard; how dare you!”
“I
dare because I know you. He was your type, for one thing. You’ve always had it
for pretty boys with problems and when you met him, this boy had plenty. What I
don’t understand is why you came back for him. Your usual style is to leave
them wanting more.”
A
knock came at the door before she could reply. “Answer it,” Raymond said.
Black
nudged the duffle bag to one side and opened the door. Tess stood in the
hallway. She had exchanged her jeans for roomy fleece pants that matched her
sweatshirt, and the shell pink outfit made her look small and vulnerable. Jett
the vampire loomed behind her. He grinned at Raymond. “I found her downstairs.”
Raymond
came forward like a host welcoming the guest of honour to a party. He smiled
warmly, took Tess by the hand. “Come in, my dear. It’s time that we met face to
face, don’t you agree?”
She
didn’t glance at Black as Jett steered her into the suite. Jett did. Black knew
instantly that not all of them were going to get out of this alive. “You know
him?” he asked Tess.
She
shook her head. “Ah,” Raymond cooed, “but I know so much about you, little
thing. You’ve been a very naughty girl, spying on Ariel. Not too smart, either,
from the look of it. He wasn’t your best bet.”
“I
don’t know about that,” she replied steadily. “He’s brought me to you.”
Raymond
looked condescending. “And now that you’re here …?”
“I
want to know which one of you murdered my lover.”
Raymond
laughed. “What makes you think any of us murdered anyone?”
“You
gave me the first hint,” Black told him. “You changed the subject when I asked
if you knew who might have seen Travis before he died. Then you told me way too
much about the blonde on my tail. You couldn’t have known that she suspected a
vampire was responsible for her lover’s death unless she had told you herself.”
“You’re
only guessing,” Clare spoke up. “You don’t know for sure.”
He
rounded on her. “And you finished up by appearing on cue, hellbent on getting
me out of town when you haven’t given a rat’s ass before now. You don’t want me
with you, Clare. I’d be with you now if you did.”
“You
can still come with me,” she said. “I want you to come with me.”
“I’d
like to,” he said truthfully, “but it’s not going to happen. See, you and I
don’t share the same point of view on very many things. You’ve always
considered people as playthings; little mice to bat between your paws until you
nail one with a claw. Well, sugar, you’ve nailed me one too many times. Tess,
here, has offered me ten grand to take you out for Travis’s murder, and that’s
the sort of offer I find hard to refuse.”
Clare
was appalled. “Ten thousand? Is all you think of me?”
“Oh,
no, honey, I think a lot less.”
Raymond
drew Tess against his chest and embraced her from behind, placing his hands
square on top of her breasts. His eyes gleamed on Black. “I’ll give you ten
times that to take out this troublesome little thorn. She’s doomed anyway, and
you would be so much more merciful than me.”
Black
studied Tess’s face. She was pale but resolute, and though he expected her to
bring up the dossier, she stayed silent. Even when Raymond’s fingers closed on
her breasts, she gave no sign that it bothered her. Hang in there, honey,
he thought, don’t let me down. “Maybe Jett would like her,” he
suggested.
Raymond
frowned, brushing his chin over the top of her head. “She’s far too delicate
for Jett. Mortal women tear so easily, don’t they, big fella?”
Jett
smirked. “I don’t mind.”
“I
do,” Raymond replied, matter-of-factly. “This room is rented.”
“Let
me have her,” Clare said. “Then I’ll have the pair.”
“Ah,
but then poor Ariel loses his commission. What will it be, Ariel? Ten or ten
times ten?”
Black’s
eyes were fierce on Clare’s face. Even through his shades, she felt the weight
of his stare. She set her jaw and turned to him, brown eyes faintly triumphant.
She saw no way out for him or Tess. They had gambled and lost. “You did it,” he
said flatly. “You killed Travis.”
She
smiled.
“Why?”
Tess burst out. She gripped Raymond’s wrists in white-knuckled hands, holding
him to her breasts whether he wanted it or not. “What did he ever do to you?”
Clare
turned her lazy eyes to Tess. “Oh, lots of things, in the beginning. Wonderful
things. When we first met, we had great fun together—so much that I suppose he
never got over it. When we met again six months ago, he wanted to resume the
relationship, but I was done with him. I didn’t mean to kill him. He forced it
on me.”
Black
watched Tess crumble in Raymond’s arms. She tried to stay composed, but Clare’s
venom was more effective than a rattlesnake’s. The colour drained from her
face, and she seemed to shrink. “That’s not true.”
“Trust
me, dearie. There isn’t a mortal alive who can be satisfied with just a
little.”
Tess’s
hands clenched on Raymond’s wrists. Her eyes closed, and for a second Black
believed all was lost. He was on the point of saying he would take her when she
suddenly doubled over and drove an elbow deep into Raymond’s gut.
Raymond
released her with a surprised woof; she dropped, rolled and pulled the
flare gun from the makeshift holster Black had strapped to her ankle before
leaving the house. She tossed it blindly in his direction. Jett moved to
intercept it and took a knife in the shoulder for his effort. Black caught the
gun and aimed it at Clare, freezing her before she could get to Tess. “Get
behind me,” he snapped at the blonde, and she scurried to obey.
Raymond
had recovered and was warily eyeing the gun. Clare faced the barrel head on.
“You don’t have the balls,” she said.
“Surprise,”
he retorted—and fired.
to be continued ...
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