Читать книгу Kissed by a Vampire - Caridad Pineiro - Страница 7

The nightmares had sucked life from him for months.

Then they had stopped abruptly.

Tonight’s bad dream was far worse. It sank its teeth deep and refused to let go.

Maybe it was wrong to call it a dream, Alex Garcia thought as he walked into a scene that was so vivid he could smell, taste and feel all that was around him.

The apartment he entered was dank and reeked of urine from the many squatters that had used the place for shelter. Only the chill of the winter night kept his discomfort to a tolerable level in the abandoned apartment. His cold sweat on the grip of his Glock turned the stock slippery. His gut tightened as he held his breath.

He was nervous.

Not a condition he was used to. He had grown accustomed to danger in his many years as a DEA agent. This mission was different.

Failure on this mission meant the possibility of death for hundreds of innocent civilians.

Never again.

He repeated the vow he had made after September 11, the one that had been the reason he had accepted this assignment.

He gripped the Glock tighter and moved farther into the apartment. He and his fellow Cuban Democratic Army member were supposed to pick up a stolen handheld smartbomb delivery system that the CDA planned to use in the terrorist attack that he intended to prevent.

The weapon was not in the empty apartment as it should have been. As he turned to look at his partner, wondering if they had gone to the wrong location, another CDA member stepped from a back room and opened fire.

The force of the blow to his chest had him reeling backward. The pain was so intense he nearly blacked out from it. When a second blast immediately followed, ripping into his midsection, his knees buckled.

He fell back against the wall, slowly sinking to the ground in a sitting position, the body of the other CDA member sprawled beside him. The man’s lifeless stare confirmed that he was dead, much as Alex expected to be shortly as his assailant trained his weapon on Alex’s head for the coup de grâce.

The loud sounds of gunfire and an explosion outside the room distracted the shooter long enough for Alex to raise his weapon and fire.

With a surprised look, the armed man lowered his gun and stared at the blossoming trail of blood down the middle of his chest. It was the last thing he saw as he dropped to the ground, dead from a direct shot to the heart.

Alex had little time to ponder what to do next.

He was too badly wounded to move. Already he could feel the growing warmth of the blood soaking into his clothing and leaving a chill behind in his body. He was going to die there, alone and unable to do anything else to help stop the terrorist attack.

He had failed in his mission.

Outside the apartment all hell had broken loose judging from the noises reverberating in the winter night. The FBI must have moved in and the CDA was likely fighting back, determined to complete their plot.

A second later, the door to the apartment burst open, slamming against the wall.

His eyesight was fading, but he saw that a man had entered the room. He was holding something.

Someone.

He forced himself to focus and realized the man held Alex’s ex-lover, but Diana wasn’t moving. Blood covered the man’s arms and hands as he embraced her.

Diana’s blood. Too much of it.

Alex forced himself to take a painful breath, attempting to speak. It managed to get the man’s attention, and as his gaze wavered, Alex finally glimpsed the man’s face.

Only it wasn’t a man.

Shock gathered his senses, bringing Alex to painful alertness.

He had to protect Diana from whatever that was. He tried to raise his gun, only his body refused to cooperate. He couldn’t move his arm. Couldn’t even feel the Glock in his hand anymore as awareness fled his dying body.

A voice suddenly penetrated his fading consciousness.

They weren’t alone in the room any longer.

He trained his attention on that voice—a woman’s husky tones.

“This one’s still alive.”

Alex realized she was referring to him, not that he would be alive for much longer. That realization didn’t bring fear for himself, but for those he had failed.

“Unlike your friend will be shortly,” the woman added and motioned to the monster holding Diana in his arms.

“Leave,” the demon commanded, pain evident in that one word, but the woman just laughed and sauntered over. She crouched before the demon and Diana.

Alex’s hearing and vision were dimming quickly. Only a confused murmur of voices came to him, but then the woman shot upright and strode angrily across the room toward him.

Her bright, almost phosphorescent blue-green gaze locked with his, her fangs clearly visible. A vampire, he thought for the barest of moments.

Only, vampires weren’t real.

What he was seeing had to be a product of his blood loss, he thought.

But as the woman leaned closer, there was no denying what stood before him. She stared at him hard and, for a moment, reverted to human form.

She was quite beautiful as a human, he thought, before the vampire returned and bent toward him. Sharp fangs grazed his neck as the warm kiss of her lips slipped across his skin, awakening ardor.

Bestowing passion that twisted together with the pain in his body and soul as her fangs broke through his skin.

Alex shot up in bed, drenched with perspiration. Shaking from the reality of the waking nightmare and the desire that was always associated with it.

As he wiped his hands across his face, clearing the cold sweat of fear mixed with unwanted passion, he tried to scrub away the memories of the demon as well, but they refused to leave.

Refused to depart in much the way that the recurring memories of that winter night had not left him.

Alex cursed beneath his breath, hoping that he could muster enough control by the morning to pass his psychological review tomorrow. He had been itching to get back into the field for months. If the DEA psychologist picked up on the vibes from his nightmare, Alex was worried that the shrink wouldn’t clear him for undercover duty.

Who could trust an agent in the field who worried that vampires roamed the darkness?

He had to get a grip, he told himself, lying back down and willing himself to go back to sleep. An untroubled sleep free of the nightmare of the failed mission and the monsters that haunted his nights.

But even as he was finally able to drift off, the vision of her face—both vampire and mortal—wove itself into his subconscious, leaving him to wonder if he maybe wasn’t losing his sanity.

After nearly two thousand years of immortality, life had become predictably boring. Possibly even depressing.

Not that being a vampire didn’t have certain benefits, Stacia considered, trying to convince herself that being a vampire elder rocked.

First, her age bestowed vast powers upon her. Incredible physical prowess and strength coupled with the ability to mentally control others, especially those vampires and humans she had gifted with a bite or a taste of her blood.

Even better, her elder status also brought sexual pleasures and lust beyond anything she could have ever imagined.

So what if the price paid for those powers by a shy virgin had been not only the loss of her innocence but her life?

She should revel in all that her elder powers could bring, Stacia thought as she perused the crowd passing before the veranda of her South Beach hotel. Excitement rose up at the thought of burying her teeth into the soft skin of a willing partner and drinking deeply. Maybe even creating a playmate to keep her company for a while.

Unfortunately, in her nearly two millennia of life, there had been not one partner worthy of offering a true vampire’s embrace and the kind of existence that could follow.

What was worse, Stacia didn’t believe it was even worth the challenge after so long.

It was why she had opted to come south since Manhattan had gotten extremely … bothersome lately.

All those wannabe human vampires with their goodness and love. Still trapped in the denial stage she had survived long ago. It was totally disgusting that so many of her men had succumbed to Cupid’s senseless entreaty. Even Diego, nearly an elder by virtue of his own lengthy existence, had fallen for a mortal. A dying one at that.

At least Diego had had the sense to turn the human and bind her to him.

Not that it mattered to Stacia that Diego now had a lifelong companion. The human monogamy of her friends and all the melodrama that Manhattan seemed to offer lately had grown too tiresome.

She had needed a change of pace, and Miami had seemed like just the place to visit, especially after a disturbing and violent winter in New York City. The two cities couldn’t be more disparate and Stacia welcomed that change.

She stepped from the veranda of the Park Central Hotel and out into the almost pleasant air of a South Beach spring night. Almost pleasant because the humidity was building even this early in the season, gathering strength for the hot and heavy days of summer that would be there in just over a month.

It had been nearly a century since she had done a Miami summer, Stacia recalled, gliding down Ocean Drive as dusk settled over the city. Flagler’s railroad had brought the rich and wealthy down to the tropical climes, helping to create the metropolis that had provided a wonderful playground for her visit during the Roaring Twenties. Forty years later the diaspora of Cubans fleeing Castro would make their mark on the city and launch a new direction for Miami’s growth.

Ah, the Cubans. Her mouth watered at the thought of something so deliciously different.

She hurried down Ocean Drive, hunger and need driving her toward Lincoln Road and the nightclub the hotel’s concierge had recommended. As she reached the location, she noted the long line of humans waiting to enter and the muscle-bound bouncer guarding the door.

Smiling, she walked up to the man and sent him a mental command. With a dazed look, he obeyed, lifting the velvet rope to permit her to enter despite the grumbled complaints from those at the head of the line. With a sharp glance their way, Stacia silenced them with another blast of elder power.

Inside the club, dozens of couples moved to the beats spewing from the club’s sound system. Speakers were mounted everywhere, creating not just a cacophony of noise, but an almost physical assault from the pounding music. Pings, chirps and shouts emanated from some rather avid electronic gaming in an adjacent room. An odd combination of noises, and while Stacia would have preferred a quieter venue, the push of vampire power confirmed to her that others of her kind were present.

Not many vampires, however. And not one of the vamps she sensed was as powerful as she was, Stacia thought as she threaded her way through the crowd. That was just as well. She didn’t want to spend the night in a pissing contest with an elder worried about her moving in on his territory.

Plus, the presence of vampires in the club confirmed it was a good place to satisfy undead needs in a variety of ways.

Pleased, she continued onward, seeking her satisfaction for the night.

The Widget provided an odd combination of entertainment, from the dancing and nightlife in one section of the club to the electronic gaming and gadgets in another.

Of course, since certain sections of Miami had once dubbed themselves Silicon Beach, it only seemed natural that someone would one day meld that aspect of the city with those for which the city was more known—the beaches and nightclubs, Alex thought as he slipped from the low-slung seat of his customized Crossfire convertible.

Even though he was supposed to be on desk duty, Alex wanted to stay in touch with what was happening at his old haunts. A visit to the various clubs would help him be ready when he was cleared to return to his undercover assignment.

As those coming and going on foot passed by and the noises of activity within the club filtered out into the night, Alex hurried down an alley to a side door. It was guarded by a familiar face. The man smiled as he realized who it was.

“Hola, Alejandro. Good to see you.”

The security guard embraced Alex heartily, clapping him on the back. He had the build of a sumo wrestler, was a good half foot taller than Alex’s six feet and twice as broad as Alex across the shoulders and waist. He was also one of the drug dealers along the Ocean Drive strip and an informant Alex had relied on during many an investigation.

“Good to be alive, Pedro, unlike the guy who shot me,” he said, playing the little game they always did. As far as most of the locals in South Beach knew, Alex was part of the underground that fed the sinful pleasures to be found as part of South Beach’s nightlife. Only a select few knew he was an undercover agent.

With a playful jab to the other man’s rotund middle, he freed himself from the bouncer’s embrace and stepped through the door into the club.

The Widget was packed. Alex ducked and weaved through the throng, searching with keen eyes for signs of any illegal activities. As he passed through one section close to the video games, he caught sight of a familiar silhouette, but quickly lost sight of the woman among the crowd.

He peered over the people lingering close to the dance floor, searching for another glimpse of her and thought he spotted her once again near the bar. As he elbowed his way past the bodies milling nearby, he confirmed that she stood at the bar, apparently waiting for service.

Her hair was short and dark, nearly sealblack, and cropped close to the elegant line of her neck. The dress she wore was lethally feminine, hugging her very generous curves and providing enticing glimpses of pale, creamy skin beneath all the black.

Something infinitely sexy about this woman called to him.

Dangerously sexy, he thought as his gut tightened with a need so intense his knees wavered.

His powerful reaction made him increase his pace toward her, eager to find out why she affected him so and why she seemed so familiar. But then the woman turned and smiled at someone beside her.

She wasn’t alone.

He stopped dead in his tracks. He wasn’t one to poach on another man’s territory, only …

The woman’s profile rang a powerful chord from him.

She seemed to sense his interest for she slowly dragged her gaze from the tall, well-built man next to her and transferred it to him. A moment of puzzlement narrowed her dark and exotic almond-shaped eyes, before a dazzling smile stole onto her lips.

Her smile appeared to be challenging him to come over. The pull of it was so strong that he stepped forward until she once again turned away to attend to her date.

Was she playing with him? he wondered for a moment before it came to him again that he knew her. He was certain of it, but Alex was at a loss to place the intriguing woman. He chalked it up to the brain fog he had experienced for months after the surgery he’d had to endure to repair his body’s wounds. He blamed that lack of clarity for his failure to identify the alluring creature standing just yards away.

As the crowd shifted in front of him, blocking his view, he sidestepped a few people and then pushed forward, searching for her again.

Needing to see more of her.

But she was gone.

He dropped back into the crowd, questioning where she had gone. Wondering how it was that they were … connected. There was no other way to describe the reaction he’d had at the sight of her. However they knew each other, it had to have been something more than just a chance meeting.

Pity him for being unable to remember.

Her vamp radar detected the powerful thrum of interest.

She glanced away from the man next to her to survey the crowd for the origin of that sensation as they waited for the bartender to bring their drinks.

Her petite stature had her peering through the throng of bodies lingering nearby and moving on the dance floor. She peeked between the humans, then rose on tiptoe until her gaze collided with that of a handsome Latino.

Tall and well built, he had dark hair that was short on the side, longer up top and stylishly gelled into place. His olive skin lacked the tan of many in the establishment, but was creamy looking against the pale beige of his guayabera shirt.

He was intently staring her way, his deep green eyes narrowing to examine her as their gazes met and held. Her own was puzzled as she explored his features, trying to imagine why it was that he seemed familiar.

Puzzled that she couldn’t remember someone so deliciously attractive.

She hadn’t been in Miami in nearly a century, which meant that if they had met, it had to have been somewhere else.

His stare was so intent—so desirous—that it dragged a sexy smile to her face. A smile that dared him to come visit and explore whatever connection was happening between them.

When he returned that invitation with the determined glitter in his gaze, it roused desire, making her question how she could fail to remember him. Maybe Manhattan? She searched her memory, but her companion dipped his head close, dragging her attention back to him.

“The drinks are here,” her dinner date said, nuzzling the side of her face, the heat of his human state pulling her attention back to him.

She smiled, the handsome Latino man forgotten as the words from an old song—about loving who you’re with if you can’t have the one you love—played in her brain.

It didn’t matter where she had seen the handsome Latino or why he was calling to her so strongly. For tonight, the man beside her would be the one to share her bed and be her meal. The attractive stranger would just have to wait until tomorrow.

The delay would only help tenderize him. Make him even more susceptible to her charms in the future.

After all, there would always be another tomorrow in her undead life.