Bloody Broken (A Bloody Series Book #2) (4 page)

BOOK: Bloody Broken (A Bloody Series Book #2)
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    “You’re doing great, mate. We like you. We like talking to you. Tell us some more about Matt. Is he the leader?” Adam asked. This was going to take forever, but at least he was talking.

    “No! Ha! He wishes.” His head rolled back to look at the ceiling again.

    “Who is the leader?” Adam asked losing patience.

    “Devin Keller. He’s from White Plains, New York. Born and raised.” His voice dropped two octaves, as if he were impersonating the man. Chris gave him an “I told you so” look. Claude was taking notes.

    “Excellent. Now, Pauly, this is important. Where can we find Devin?”

    “Don’t know.”

    “What do you mean you don’t know?”

    “Don’t know. He didn’t show up for the meeting tonight. Colin either. Vic knows where the safe house is. She probably met up with them after you beat the shit out of me and tied me to this chair.”

    “Where is the safe house?” Now they were really getting somewhere.

    “Don’t know. They never invite me.”

    “Fuck it. I give up.” Adam threw up his hands and walked away.

    “Vic lives around the corner from Domino’s. She has to go home eventually.” Pauly said logically.

    “I should have put money down that he would talk. I’m never wrong.” Chris said.

    “He’s really not. I’ve seen him do this twice.” Derick said.

    “Which corner does she live on, Pauly?” Adam asked, ignoring them.

    “She lives in the studio with all the shitty music and shitty smells and shitty pink curtains.”

    Okay, he could run with that. “You guys stay here, and keep working on him. I’ll check out her apartment. She won’t be there but I might find some clues to what they’re up to, or where they might be.” He grabbed his coat off the chair.

    “You want back up?” Dominic asked.

    “No, I’ve got this. Like I said, she won’t be there. Nobody would be that stupid. Except maybe Pauly.”

    “Blow me.”

   “Oy, there it is!” Adam chuckled.

 

Chapter Three

 

    She knew going back to her apartment was supremely stupid, but Vic needed supplies if she was going to skip town. After she realized she had grabbed the wrong coat it occurred to her she also had Matt's phone. Devin had left a text telling them that someone was watching the pub, but it was too little, too late at that point. No one had shown up at the safe house either. She had waited an hour but paranoia set in and she decided to leave. She was on her own, and she planned on getting the fuck out of town as soon as possible. In all fairness, she did scout the neighborhood for signs of anyone watching. She didn’t see anything suspicious. Didn’t even feel the eyes on her back that she had felt earlier in the night. The light was still on in her apartment, but she always left it on. There weren’t any movements from inside, so she walked out from behind the large oak across the street and headed inside. Her studio was on the third floor above a Vietnamese restaurant. The stairwell was quiet as she crept along the wall. It wasn’t until she unlocked the door and walked inside that she knew she had made a fatal mistake. She had already closed the door behind her when she caught the whiff of leather and foreign cologne. Her head snapped up and there he was, sitting as casual as could be on her couch with his feet rested on her coffee table, ankles crossed. He was slowly flipping through the giant photo album she kept under her bed in a steel lockbox. Anger surged through her veins.

    “Is this you here,” he pointed to a picture, “with the stiletto and the pencil skirt? It’s adorable.” He looked up and grinned.

    She pulled said stiletto from its position behind her back. “Yes, that was summer of ’56. Good times. Though I can’t say I was going for adorable.” She flicked the blade out with a snick, and twirled it casually. He didn’t seem to be in a foul mood. Not that she would be letting her guard down. Quite the opposite, it was worrying. He eyed the blade, and then looked back down at the album. He flipped to the next page.

    “How did you find me?” She had to ask.

    “Pauly. He’s got a talent for getting caught apparently. You should revoke his membership to your little club. He’s quite the rat,” he said without looking up.

    “Yes. I hope you beat the shit out of the guy. He always did get on my nerves.” She took a step into room. She thought for a second about trying the door and seeing how far she could get down the stairs before he caught up. She eyed his long legs incased in his casual, dark jeans and decided not far.

    “Then you'll be happy to know my associate gave him a few taps when she caught him, but he’s fine now. I’m sure he’s going to wish she had killed him when we hand him over to Master Orleans.” He kept flipping through the album. She flinched at the name but otherwise didn’t respond.

    “I assume you understand why we came after you?” He asked, looking up again. He reached up to push a lock of his dark chocolate colored hair out of his eyes.

    “You think I’m a terrorist?” She asked, wondering why he was staling.

    “Well, let’s see. You were a member of a group of Weres associated with the terrorist attack pulled back in October, and now you’re seen meeting with Other members in abandoned warehouses by the docks. Which is unbelievably cliché I might add. Do you deny these allegations?” He asked.

    “Being a member of a peace group, that I quit by the way, doesn’t make me a terrorist. And who I hang out with in my own time is my business.” She knew her fucking rights. This guy had nothing. She should have just played it cool back at the pub. Now he thought she was guilty. It wasn’t her fault cops made her nervous. Especially fucking Vamps, which he had to be.

    “If you have nothing to hide, why lock all your personal possessions in a lock box, and hide it under your bed? You’re practically living out of a suitcase here.” He spread his arms out to showcase her tiny apartment, with its sparse furnishings and lack of personal touch.

    “It’s none of your business.” She took another step towards him. He loosened his legs slightly.

    “Actually, it is my business. Adam Hevenside.” He introduced himself, placing his hand to his chest. “I’m lead Investigator to King Johnathan. It’s my job to investigate criminals. I came here to do just that. Though I didn’t think you were actually going to drop in my lap like this, I thank you for making my job easier.” He grinned at her, and she longed to smack the cocky look right off his face.

    “You could hardly say I fell into your lap,” she growled.

    “Do you want to?” He asked, completely serious.

    “Where's your back-up?” She questioned. He cocked an eyebrow at her change in topic.

    “Downstairs. Why?” He was lying. She would have known even if she hadn’t checked before coming up. She leapt at him full speed. He had just managed to stand up when she landed shoulder first into his middle, knocking the breath out of him, and sending the couch sliding into the window overlooking the street below. He grunted, but got a death grip on her wrist as she tried to wedge her stiletto into his chest.

    “You stop that this instance. I’ll add assaulting a police officer to the charges.” He was grinning again, god damn him.

    “Too bad you’re not a cop, you’re a fucking leech.” She twisted out of his grasp as he pulled the knife from her hand and tossed it. She used her position to wedge her knee into his crotch. He growled at her attempt.

    “I knew I could get you into my lap, but I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.  Would you please stop swinging at me?” She had got some good hits in but as far as she could tell it didn’t faze him in the least.  He was just trying to wrestle her arms down. She wasn’t even sure why she was bothering to fight him. He was a Vamp. If she couldn’t stake him or cut his head off, all she was doing was annoying him. Maybe she was just trying to knock that look off his face. He managed to get his arms around her torso, pinning her arms at her side. She eventually stopped squirming. She noticed she had managed to straddle herself across his thighs. He didn't seem to be upset about her being there, but he wasn’t grinning anymore. He looked surprised. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, a little rush of heat spread through her middle. They were just staring at each other now. Both unwilling to move. His eyes strayed down to her lips.
When did this become okay?

    “Were you involved in the attacks in Columbus?” He asked softly. Unbelievably, she told him the truth.

    “No.” Then he was kissing her, and even more impossible, she was kissing him back.
It’s only because he’s so gorgeous,
she told herself.
And he kisses like it’s going out of style.
He let his arms around her slack so he was holding her instead of imprisoning her.
 
She reached up and worked her hands into his hair as they inhaled each other. She was making little moans that were sounding to her ears like questions. Why was she kissing him? Why did he want
her
? Weren’t Vamps supposed to be cold? He was hotter than Fourth of July in Texas. He was flashing fang now too. She knew she should be afraid but found herself swipping her tongue across the sharp points instead. He growled at her again.

    “I believe you. I shouldn’t, but I do,” he said between the kisses he had started trailing down her neck.

    “Mmm. It’s because I’m using my feminine wiles to seduce you,” she joked. He was sliding Matt's jacket aside to leave a trail of kisses down her shoulder.

    “I thought that’s what I was doing,” he said, and then stopped kissing her shoulder. “No, that’s not right.”  She laughed. He just shrugged, and took her face in his large, warms hands. He plundered her mouth like he was searching for leftovers from dinner.  Eventually they slowed down, and then stopped altogether. His face was slowly forming a frown.

    “What?” She asked.

    “I didn’t mean for that to happen.” She scoffed. “No, really. I’m not sure what came over me.” He picked her up and sat her back down on the couch.

    “Are you trying to say you don’t know why you find me attractive?” She quirked an eyebrow.

    “Of course not. I’m saying I usually have better control than that.” He got up and paced the room. “That can’t happen again. I’m sorry. Even if you weren’t involved with the attacks, I still have to bring you in for questioning.”

    “Well, no fur off my back.” She crossed her arms. He snorted at her analogy.

    “Shall we?” He motioned to the door.

    “Shall we what?” She uncrossed her arms, planting them on the couch. She wasn’t going anywhere.

    “Shall we leave the apartment so I can take you in for questioning?” He spoke slowly, as if to a child.

    “I don’t think so. You want a glass of OJ? No, I don’t suppose you do.” She got up and walked to the fridge. He growled as she pulled out the jug and took a swig. He looked positively livid. She just smiled. “What? You think just because we necked on the couch that I was going to run off with you? Nice try.”

    “If you didn’t participate in terrorist activities in Columbus, and you’re not doing anything illegal now, then why won’t you come and clear your name?”

    “I don’t have to explain myself to you. You've got nothing on me. If you’re quite done you can leave now. Thank you.” She turned her back to him to put the OJ back in the fridge. When she turned around, he was standing directly behind her. She let out a yip that was decidedly uncool.

    “You
are
coming with me, even if I have to throw you over my shoulder,” he growled slowly.

    “You even think about touching me, I’ll scream. Every person in a ten block radius will hear me.” She went nose to nose with him. Or as close as she could get. He was a good foot taller than her.

    “I think after having met you, every person in a ten block radius would stand outside and cheer me on as I’m dragging your noisy ass through the snow to my car.” He didn’t give an inch.

    “Alright, how about this? You touch me, and I’m going to tell anyone who will listen that you beat and raped a confession out of me. I can cry pretty convincingly.” She smiled at the look of pure outrage that transformed his face. Then his rage settled.

    “No one would believe you,” he said smugly.

    “Yeah, why is that?”

    “This is why.” He crushed his lips down to hers, and she couldn’t stop herself from responding exactly the same way she had on the couch. Despite her anger towards him, as soon as he kissed her again she was lost. He had her pinned to the counter with his hips. She spread her legs to allow him to step between them. One leg trailed its way up the back of his as she crawled up his body.

    “Is this rape,
Victoria
?” He whispered to her lips.

    “No…” She already had forgotten what they had been arguing about. Then he pulled away and took a step back.

    “Alright. Please do well to remember that in the future.” He straightened his button down shirt, tucking the back in where she had been attempting to pull it from his pants.

    “If you think that isn’t some form of coercion, you’re wrong.” She spit out at him. Damn him for staying so cool when she was anything but. Although he was still breathing deeply.

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