Demetrius (6 page)

“Wait, what? Isn’t there anything I can do?”

“We’ll keep investigating, but if you change your routine, your father will get suspicious.”

“But I can help.”

He leveled his sternest look at her. “No, Callista. We’ll keep you up to date. Routine is critical. Maybe Ophelia can visit again, if you’re afraid.”

Callista opened her mouth to argue. She shut it again. He wanted her to beg not to return home, to stay here with him, even though he couldn’t let her. But she didn’t. Instead, she thanked Ophelia. He suspected a real friendship was forming between the two.

She left but her delightful scent lingered. And he was still clutching her damn phone.

Chapter Six

Rock music reverberated through Demetrius’ skull. At the shifter club, Pale Moonlight, across the river in West Creek, they loved their music liked they loved their sex—hard and loud. His head pounded like he had a hangover without the benefit of a drink. Demetrius skimmed the crowd and saw a good mix of shifters and humans. Not many vampires ventured to the shifter club yet. Both species had their own territories that they preferred. Once vampires got a taste of shifter blood, they’d start hanging out. Once shifters learned that vampires’ sexual stamina rivaled their own, they’d let them stay.

He scanned
the crowd full of young women, some barely twenty-one and many young professionals. No matter the age, they were all dressed to attract and seeking the fun a desk job couldn’t provide. 

He should feed. He was hungry, and not for a rib-eye, rare, with a side of prime rib, also rare. Nothing short of a vein would do.

A quick fuck would be even better.

And better than that would be if he wanted to take from a vein or plow into any willing female—
at all
. He regarded all the bared flesh, all the coy glances shot his way, and he had no interest in hunting a meal.

Sex, he could do without—not that he ever thought he would, in his long life, admit that. Feeding was another matter. If he didn’t make himself drink some blood, whether from a nubile young co-ed out looking for a good time or from a sixty year-old cab driver, he’d be in dire straits. One doesn’t overthrow a government, help rule two species notorious for centuries of fighting, and then let themselves grow frail and weak
. He’d be assassinated within days. 

Inhaling deeply, he sensed several shifters he knew.

Drifting through the crowd, shifter males bared their teeth when they caught his vampire scent, only to nod respectfully when they realized it was him. Demetrius inclined his head in return, vaguely noticing the females who continued to try to attract his attention.

He slid into a seat across from a ruddy-haired shifter. The male exuded strength and almost never smiled. Now that he’d mated, his eyes, once a grim shade of hazel, had lightened to merely serious. The male was in charge of the West Creek Guardians, the police force for all things not human in the area. They’d been instrumental bringing down Sigma.

“Commander.”

Rhys Fitzsimmons acknowledged Demetrius’ presence, but his eyes remained trained on the dance floor. “Demetrius. What crypt dumped you out for the night?”

“Hilarious, Rhys. I’m surprised to see you out without your lovely mate.”

That earned him an irritated glance before the Guardian’s eyes drifted back to the throng of bodies on the dance floor; he jutted his chin toward it.

Demetrius searched in the direction Fitzsimmons indicated, finding two tall females—one a willowy shifter with long, coppery hair, and the other, Rhys’ mate. Alex Fitzsimmons’ strong, athletic body gyrated against the other female, creating an amazingly erotic display that had drawn much attention.

“Dude.” Demetrius uttered.

“I know, right?” Rhys’ rapt attention didn’t waver.

Demetrius knew that the male saw no one else on the dance floor but Alex. He’d known the pair before they were mates, before they were even civil to each other. In fact, Alex was kind of an ex of his. Kind of.

And Rhys still hated him for it.

Kind of.

Actually, the two had formed a solid working relationship. Rhys was no nonsense. Demetrius knew he wouldn’t get bullshit from the guy, and it was refreshing to have a contact who sincerely wanted what was best for the new government and the species they protected.

“Anything new?” Demetrius came to Pale Moonlight on occasion to meet with the Guardians.

His visits served two purposes—to get information and stay updated on items that didn’t reach the Synod. His sensitive hearing would pick up on any whispered conversations, especially those that referred to the demon problem he’d been having.

“Same old shit. The new vampire Guardians are cocky as fuck, and they do nothing but bitch about all our windows.” Rhys slid over, throwing his arm across the back of the booth.

“D.” Alex glided in next to Rhys. Her mischievous smile refreshing, her vibrant green eyes bright. “What coffin coughed you up?”

“I could ask the same about you, love, but I’m sure you two are still in the fuck-like-rabbits stage of your matehood. I doubt any coffin can take all that pounding.”

Alex gave an indelicate snort. “Tell me about it. You’d think they’d make furniture stronger than that. We’re on our third table.”

Rhys sat back with a smug expression on his face, his arm curled around her shoulders. Demetrius felt an unfamiliar pull of envy. Not because he missed the female with the midnight black, slicked back bob, rocking the
Matrix
look. No, she was a good friend, and he was happy for her, and for Rhys. He didn’t need sappy shit like that in his life.

So why did the image of a blonde-haired prime daughter who carried a gigantic stick up her ass imprint on his brain?

Her father was possessed. She needed his help. Didn’t want it. Didn’t like him. But needed help. And fuck if he’d let anyone else help her.

“I’d love to hear the story of how you two broke the table, but I don’t need an image of Rhys’ pale ass in my head. I have a name. I need to hear what you know, and I need to keep this between us.”

“Oooh,” Alex rubbed her hands together, smiling wickedly. “Is it juicy? Am I going to have to tell my brother?”

Her brother was the hybrid representative on the Synod, but Alex’s past with Sigma was something he needed to tap into more than keeping his demon issue on the down low. Besides, he wasn’t lying. Just omitting a huge chunk of information.

“No. A former councilmen is being blackmailed. His daughter’s worried about him and came to me for help.”

Both Rhys and Alex focused on him.

“What?”

“Is she hot?” Alex asked.

Insanely. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Have you had sex with her yet?” Rhys asked.

“None of your damn business! The fuck, dude?”

They both exchanged a look.

“What?” He shouldn’t have come here, should’ve tried to track down the identity behind the name in some other club.

Rhys chuckled. “Your only focus for years had been taking down the Vampire Council. Once you accomplished that, you’ve been single-minded about making the Synod successful. But now you’re taking on a side project, and you expect us to believe it’s out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Careful.” Alex smirked at her mate. “We’re going to scare him off. Okay, D, what’s the name the totally-not-hot girl gave you?”

After donning the harshest scowl he could, and not having it faze Alex one bit, he rattled off the name. “Abram McPherson.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “McFeely?”

Demetrius and Rhys stared at her.

“Is that his street name?” Demetrius hadn’t heard it before.

“No, it’s his quit-touching-me name others gave him. He only tried to paw at me once. Once was enough for me to teach him a lesson.”

Demetrius didn’t doubt her. “Who is he?”

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard of him. He prides himself on being in the know, all up in vampires’ business. I think he used to work for a prime family.”

That would explain how Edgar Augustus knew the male.

A delicious scent tickled Demetrius’ nose; his blood hunger went wild. He tried to ignore it because he was finally getting answers.

“As a Sigma agent,” Alex continued, “I dealt with him because he was one of Madame G’s informants. Are you still cleaning up the mess the evil bitch left behind?”

Madame G’s meddling with demons meant she’d left one
hell
of a predicament behind—literally. “She ranks as my favorite Sigma casualty, thanks to you. Do you remember what family McFeely worked for?”

Demetrius tried to concentrate, but the scent was intoxicating. He had a hard time zeroing in on it among all the hormones saturating the club, but when he did it was worth it. Hunger gnawed at his belly, his manhood swelled, and he wanted to roll naked in a field of wildflowers.

Wildflowers.

Fuck.

He faintly heard Alex say “Mundoon,” as he scooted out of the booth searching for the vampire who smelled like wildflowers.

Feeling Rhys and Alex’s eyes bore into his back, he stalked through the crowd.

She must still be close to the door.

When he saw Callista, he stopped. If her scent messed with his mind, her appearance left him no better than a drunk frat boy reciting Shakespeare.

Shapely, long legs disappeared under the hemline of a short, black cowl neck dress. Red, strappy heels wrapped around her ankles. Her hair hung from a messy bun at her neck—her graceful, slender neck that enthralled Demetrius with the throb of her pulse. He ripped his gaze away from the alluring beat of her heart, noting her expression. The frown in her brow was as if she was at an all-you-can-eat buffet and there was nothing but broccoli and quinoa hash. It was exactly how he felt when he walked into the club.

“What are you doing here?” he growled, stomping over to her.

Her crystalline eyes flared wide in alarm and then narrowed in ire. “I’m here for the same reason you’re here,” she hissed, sounding…jealous?

“What is that supposed to mean?” He should be here to find a bedmate or to take a vein, but it was at the top of his don’t-give-a-fuck list. She obviously thought he was here to feed, and that’s why she ventured to Pale Moonlight.

He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and cart her tight little body straight back to her possessed father. The idea of her spending the night with a demon in disguise sat much better with him than her legs getting eyed by the furry bastards behind him.

“It means I’m hungry, Demetrius,” she said, her jaw tight, emotion inciting a glow in her eyes.

“Then go to one of our clubs.” Why was he throwing that idea out there? He didn’t want her at
any
club. “Or what about those old people you work with? I doubt you even have to mess with their memories. They’ll probably forget before the next day.”

“Don’t disrespect my patients.” Her eyes flashed blue fire. “And I would
never
use them like that.”

Demetrius crowded in close, looming over her. She didn’t shrink away, prime to the bone. His stance gave him a perfect view of the top of those pale globes on her chest that made his fangs ache.

Just one bite...

No! He had to get his mind off tasting her. It’d never happen. Ever. He had a bad feeling that if he were to taste her, there’d be no going back.

No, of course there would. They were
not
true mates.

“Then do what you’ve been doing.” As long as it’s not grinding on another male while taking his vein.

“It’s not that easy, nor is it any of your business why I chose to come here.”

“It’s my business because...” Hell, it wasn’t any of his business, but his gut screamed that she couldn’t sink her delectable fangs into another male’s flesh. “I’m helping you. I’m trying to get information on Abram McPherson.”

“Who? And that fails to explain why your big head is blocking me from finding a meal. I hear shifter blood is amazing.”

Someone was growling like an asshole.

It was him.

A shadow moved to his right and Callista’s head turned. He followed, his eyes hesitant to leave her face.

Alex stood with her hands on her Lycra clad hips. “Demetrius, you need to settle the hell down before Christian kicks you out of here.”

Callista arched a brow at him. “Listen to your girlfriend.”

Alex clarified. “We were never exclusive and we’re just friends now. That’s why I’m giving you the warning, D. Your lover’s spat is drawing attention. Get out of her way and let her feed. I’m sure there’s plenty of willing dudes that’d line up for her pleasure.”

The growling started again and Alex’s damn smirk didn’t help his inner turmoil. He knew she made the suggestion on purpose, to antagonize him.

“Go on,” Alex urged Callista.